TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE, THE STORY
by JacobKragoff
Summary: A full story where we follow Tom Riddle's life from all of his Hogwarts years to when he was a speaker against muggle borns, and finally to be the darkest wizard the world had ever come to know. Rated T for upcoming violence.
1. Chapter 1

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE- THE STORY

RATED- T

For violence, language, and some angst.

PART ONE- THE UNKNOWN SECRETS

CHAPTER ONE

Albus Dumbledore walked through the streets on the rainy, dreary day in London. His bewilderingly strange plum velvet suit indeed would have been drenched, if not for his dark colored umbrella. He walked through the gate and up the steps to the front door of the large and adverse orphanage of the city area. He knocked once on the large, aging, grey door.

It was opened a few moments after by a scruffy looking girl who had on an apron.

"Good afternoon," said Dumbledore. "I have an appointment with a Mrs. Cole, who, I believe, is the matron here?"

"Oh! Um… just a mo'… MRS. COLE!" she yelled over her shoulder.

The bellow was met with a frantic and irked reply from Mrs. Cole who was coming down the landing.

The girl turned back to Dumbledore, eying his suit as if it were some failed joke.

"Come in, she's on 'er way."

Dumbledore smiled kindly and stepped into the hallway of the orphanage.

A skinny, beleaguered- looking woman came scurrying toward them. Her sharp featured face looked more anxious than unkind as she continued

"….and take the iodine upstairs to Martha, Billy Stubbs has been picking his scabs and Eric Whalley's oozing all over his sheets- chicken pox on top of everything else!"

She ceased the frenzied ordering as she came with a wide eyed look to Dumbledore's suit which he was beginning to think wasn't as good a muggle disguise as he had hoped.

"Good afternoon," said Dumbledore, holding out his hand.

Mrs. Cole continued to gape at him.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore. I sent you a letter requesting an appointment and you very kindly invited me here today."

Mrs. Cole blinked a few times and then, after deciding that Dumbledore wasn't an illusion, said feebly

"Oh yes. Well- well then- you'd better come into my room. Yes"

She and Dumbledore both entered a small office that also seemed to be part sitting room.

"I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Tom Riddle and arrangements for his future," said Dumbledore.

"Are you family?" asked Mrs. Cole.

"No, I am a teacher," replied Dumbledore. "I have come to offer Tom a place at my school."

"What school's this, then?"

"It is called Hogwarts," said Dumbledore.

"And how come you're interested in Tom?"

"We believe he has qualities we are looking for."

"You mean he's won a scholarship? How can he have done? He's never been entered for one."

"Well, his name has been down for our school since birth-,"

"Who registered him? His parents?"

Dumbledore, then deciding that Mrs. Cole was an inconveniently sharp woman, took out his wand while picking up a blank piece of paper.

"Here," Dumbledore offered, waving his wand in Mrs. Cole's face so as to confound her. "I think this will make everything clear."

Mrs. Cole's vacant, expressionless eyes glanced at the paper and stated

"That seems perfectly in order."

She looked over at a bottle of gin and two glasses to drink that had certainly not been there a moment before.

"Er- may I offer you a glass of gin?" she asked as her eyes slid back into focus.

"Thank you very much," the beaming Dumbledore replied.

After the drinks were served, and Mrs. Cole had drunk hers in one gulp, Dumbledore brought up a pressing question that was very important.

"I was wondering whether you could tell me anything of Tom Riddle's history? I think he was born here in the orphanage?"

"That's right," said Mrs. Cole, helping herself to more gin.

"I remember it clear as anything, because I'd just started here myself. New Year's Eve and bitter cold, snowing, you know. Nasty night. And this girl, not much older than I was at the time, came staggering up the front steps. Well she wasn't the first. We took her in, and she had the baby within the hour. And she was dead in another hour."

"Did she say anything before she died? Anything about the boy's father, for instance?'

"Now, as it happens, she did. I remember she said to me 'I hope he looks like his papa,' and I won't lie, she was right to hope it, because she was no beauty- and then she told me he was to be named Tom, for his father, and Marvolo for HER father- yes, I know, funny name, isn't it? We wondered whether she came from a circus- and she said the boy's surname was to be Riddle. And she died soon after that without another word."

There was a silence until Mrs. Cole began again.

"Well, we named him just as she had said, it seemed so important to the poor girl, but no Tom nor Marvolo nor any kind of Riddle ever came looking for him, nor any family at all, so he stayed in the orphanage and he's been here ever since. He's a funny boy."

"Yes, I thought he might be," murmured Dumbledore.

"He was a funny baby too. He hardly ever cried, you know. And then, when he got a little older, he was…odd."

"Odd in what way?"

"Well he- He's definitely got a place at your school, you say?"

"Definitely."

"And nothing I can say can change that?"

"Nothing."

"You'll be taking him away, whatever?"

"Whatever," Dumbledore finished.

After a longer pause, she leaned in and in a hushed voice she confided

"He scares the other children."

"You mean he is a bully?" asked Dumbledore.

"I think he must be," said Mrs. Cole. "But it's very hard to catch him at it. There have been incidents… Nasty things…,"

She gulped more of the alcoholic beverage then started

"Billy Stubb's rabbit… well, Tom SAID he didn't do it and I don't see how he could have done, but even so,"

Billy Stubbs walked angrily back to his room.

That damn Riddle, he thought in his mind. At least I still have Robert.

Billy walked inside to see Robert's cage door wide open.

"Robert?" asked Billy fearfully, thinking Tom might have done something with him. "Where are you boy?"

He walked around his room, expecting to see Robert's cute little nose sniffing for a carrot or something. Billy looked out of the window and screamed

"NO!"

The rabbit was dangling by its neck on the rafters, dead as a doornail.

"…but even so, it didn't hang itself from the rafters, did it?"

"I shouldn't think so, no," agreed Dumbledore.

"But I'm jiggered if I know how he got up there to do it. All I know is he and Billy had a row the day before. And then- on the summer outing- we take them out, you know, once a year, to the country side or the seaside- well, Amy Benson and Dennis Biship were never quite the same afterwards-,"

Young Dennis sat next to Amy, a girl with long brown hair and beautiful blue eyes. They began to talk before they heard the voice of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Oi! Dennis, Amy, over here!"

The two children looked over to see Tom starting to climb down the mountain with an eager expression on his pale, but handsome, face.

"Come on down here! You have GOT to see this!"  
It was unnerving. Tom NEVER spoke as if he had found something funny or interesting that children would enjoy.

The two curious kids walked over to the mountain side.

"Follow me!" Tom said as he descended more towards a cave opening.

"No! It's a really long fall! I'll get vertigo and then dizzy and I'll let go!" Amy protested.

"Yeah Tom, let's head back to the group," Dennis agreed, slightly lightheaded from staring down at the blue waves crashing onto the jagged, grey rocks.

Tom's eyes narrowed, he looked straight into their eyes. There was something about the way he looked at them, something that made it seem like he was in their head.

"You WILL come with me," he said to them.

The two children, not knowing what they were really doing, nodded and began to climb down the mountain side.

Their legs began to quiver violently as the adrenalin surged through their bodies. Their breathing intensified, but Tom seemed to slip down the mountain as if he had done this many times which they knew he couldn't have. The orphanage had never been to this part of the sea side before.

Once they were finally at the bottom, Tom looked up and down at the cave's entrance.

He then turned to the others.

"You will follow me," he ordered them.

They continued to walk in his wake, not entirely sure why they were obliging to this crazed boy.

They walked inside and Tom smiled as he felt the air.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" he asked them.

Amy began to whimper.

Tom turned back on them.

"You were never very nice to me Dennis," he told. "I'm afraid you've put her in danger by doing that."

"What the hell are you talking about Riddle?" the frightened Dennis asked Tom.

Tom sneered, and then laughed.

His eyes were fixed on Amy. Tom seemed to be concentrating with all of his might.

He began to mutter as Amy started to scream with agony.

"AMY! Amy! Please, what's wrong? Is it HIM? Tom, STOP HURTING HER!"

She continued to wail before Tom looked away from her and she was silent.

He then looked at Dennis. He repeated the same action to the moaning child who began to wretch, before falling on the ground and vomiting up dark, red blood.

Dennis began to scream, his hands groping around worthlessly, right into the blood pool.

Tom laughed a high, cold laugh that didn't suit his handsome fetchers.

Then both Amy and Dennis were screaming and writhing, unable to call for help, for who would hear them?

The screams subsided as Tom put his foot on Dennis's throat.

"Tell anyone…and there'll be worse than THAT."

He released them both and, before leading them out, took one look at the wall and back at the blood pool.

"I'll never forget this place, will you?" he laughed.

He picked them up to their feet and forced them back out of the cave.

"- they said they had just gone exploring with Tom," Mrs. Cole told, finishing her story.

After a little more discussing of the child, Dumbledore said that he would like to go and see the boy.

"Yes, well I think you should."

They walked along the darkened hallway before coming to a door that was along side many other bedroom doors.

Mrs. Cole opened it and said

"Tom, you have a visitor."


	2. Chapter 2

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE- THE STORY

CHAPTER TWO

Tom Riddle walked through the streets of London, following Professor Dumbledore's instructions on where to find the Leaky Cauldron. When he reached the bar, he looked around to see those foolhardy and idiotic muggles walking by as if it weren't even there.

Perhaps I AM the only one here who can see it, Tom thought to himself. After all, these people aren't special like me. They know nothing of the magical arts.

He opened the door and walked through to see it overcrowded by many other wizards and witches who were all talking loudly.

A few of them looked over questioningly at the small, little boy who was making his way over to the front bar, alone.

"Excuse me," he said to the young man serving the drinks.

"I'm looking for Tom the bartender."

"Hello Tom Riddle, I'm Tom. Professor Dumbledore told me about you. Follow me then," the man said cheerfully.

He steered Tom through the inn before they came to the tinniest back area Tom had ever seen. It had no trash cans and there was the brick wall that Professor Dumbledore had mentioned.

"I'll get it for you," the man offered, taking out his wand.

He placed his wand on a few bricks and, after withdrawing it, the bricks began to move around before there was a large whole that was big enough for a large group of Tom's age to walk through.

"Can you get it from here?" the man asked little Tom.

"Yes. I don't need your help now," Tom retorted, leaving the surprised man standing there.

Tom walked through the crowded streets of what looked like an older version of London except with strangely dressed people walking around. They wore cloaks of odd colors and carried shopping bags, or at least SOME of them were carrying, while others levitated them with wands.

Tom glanced at his piece of parchment that was his school supplies list and decided to go to Olivander's first.

After finding the shop, he went inside to find that there was nobody else in there except a middle aged looking man (or perhaps in his mid forties) with light brown hair that might have been dirty blonde.

He came to his desk and asked

"How may I help you boy? Hogwarts then?"

"Yes," Tom replied. "I'm looking for Mr. Olivander."

"Speaking," Olivander said, smiling.

Tom did not smile but nodded courteously.

"So, let's get started. I'm sure we'll be able to find a match for you young man," Olivander assured.

Mr. Olivander levitated a strip of a measuring tape to measure Tom and then asked

"Are you right handed or left handed?"

"Uh, right handed," Tom said, coming out of a daze from starring at the floating tape, transfixed.

"Very well then," Olivander replied. "Time to figure out which one would be best for you."

He walked over to a shelf and picked up a long, rectangular, dark purple box. He lifted the cover off of the box and took out a long wand that matched Olivander's dusty, red coat.

"Try this," he suggested.

Tom took the wand in his hand and looked at Mr. Olivander confusedly.

"Just give it a wave," Olivander instructed.

Tom blinked once and then raised the wand higher. He flicked it and caused a nearby shelf of wands to tip over.

"Oh, great," Olivander muttered, irritated. "Not again."  
Tom looked around and noticed that there were many tipped shelves on the floor.

Did this mean that he was less capable of magic than others? Did this mean that he wasn't special at all?  
"Don't worry," Olivander said casually, as if reading Tom's thoughts. "This just means that you won't be able to use THAT wand in particular. So let's just try again."

It took many tries that all involved more tipped over shelves. It got so irksome that Olivander eventually stopped in the middle to clean up using more magic. Finally, he came to a wand that interested Tom deeply.

The wand was as white as a cloud, with spots of black here and there, and what looked like three, small, white, boney fingers at the end.

"I don't know if you'd like this wand," Olivander thought out loud. "I don't know what I was thinking when I designed it. That wand looks almost…,"

"Sinister and powerful," Tom observed, not taking his eyes off the wand in his hand and not even speaking to Olivander.

"Yes…," Olivander agreed a little awkwardly. "So then… I'll just take that back."  
He reached out his hand but Tom jerked the wand back to him and said

"No… I like it. I'll keep it thank you."

"Well, try it then," Olivander said, a little sternly.

Tom eyed it and then waved it as if he had owned it for years.

The wand lit up and sparked. Tom raised his arm triumphantly and smiled.

A very powerful wand, he thought to himself.

Olivander raised an eyebrow.

"That's holly and phoenix feather. Should service. That would be seven galleons."

Tom paid the man and walked out of the little shop, leaving Olivander looking slightly uneasy at the boy's lust for the wand.

Tom walked about Diagon Ally for two more hours before he arrived at his last stop, 'Madam Malkins'.

He walked in the robe shop to find Madam Malkin working on a small girl with blonde hair. She looked to be about Tom's age.

Madam Malkin looked up.

"Hogwarts? Very well, be right with you dear!"

Tom waited there as the girl smiled at him. He noticed that the way she looked at him was very… attracting. She had beautiful blue eyes.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Suzan."

"Hi," Tom answered. "Er… I'm Tom."

She giggled at his slight stutter.

"Nice to meat you Tom."

"That should be you done then dear," Malkin told Suzan.

"Thanks," she said, hopping down from the stool.

"You next Tom," Malkin instructed.

Tom rolled his eyes at his name and stood on the stool. Even after paying, Suzan didn't leave.

"So," she said. "You're robes are going to be basically boy versions of mine if we're both going to Hogwarts this year."  
"That is correct," Malkin said before Tom could reply.

"Are you half blood or pure blood?" Suzan asked.

"Er…," Tom said, not knowing what she meant.

"Oh! If you're not sure what I'm talking about then you're probably a muggle born."

"I am not!" Tom retorted, slightly defensively, hearing the word he was beginning to despise.

"Okay, sorry," the girl apologized.

"I happen to have had only ONE parent who was a muggle," he admitted, feeling ashamed for having slightly shouted at the girl.

"You say it as if it's a bad thing," she noticed. "I'm pure blood but I've got no problems what so ever with muggles or muggle borns."  
"Good for you dear," Malkin told her, looking annoyingly at Tom with a disapproving expression.

"Anyway, I'm not sure which was which because I grew up in an orphanage. My mother died in birth with me and my father abandoned me or lost me. I THINK he was the wizard."

He thought for a moment and as Suzan turned to leave, he stopped her with the words

"I'm sorry for shouting."  
"Really you only snapped," Malking said.

Tom ignored her.

"But I've just had some REALLY bad experiences with muggles lately. Always actually."

"Oh it's okay," she guaranteed him. "I'll see you at Hogwarts then."  
She giggled her lovely giggle and walked out.

"Don't follow her now, I'm not even done with you're sizing yet," Malkin said.

PART TWO- HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

September the first arrived long after Tom had met pretty Suzan. On the morning of the day when he would finally be leaving the hellhole he had called home for years came, Tom got up, showered, and dressed himself after brushing his teeth. When he was finished, he noticed it was only six o'clock in the morning.

The old bat, Mrs. Cole, drove Tom to King's cross station. In a letter Tom had received from Professor Dumbledore a few weeks before, he learned that to get to Platform 9 and 3/4, you had to run through the brick barrier between platform's nine and ten.

Tom drove his cart through the hustling train station after saying good bye to Mrs. Cole.

The clock over head read ten fifty two. Damn that Mrs. Cole for making him so tardy.

He quickly rushed over to the barrier and stood there, waiting for the crowds to move away.

He felt a little nervous as he began to move at a quick pace, soon to a faster pace, and then to a run.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, expecting to feel a collision with him, the trolley, and the barrier, or maybe that he would swerve and slam into the side of a train. Then he'd REALLY be in trouble.

Tom ran faster and faster, almost moaning in fear until

He opened his left eye and then both. He was in a completely other station and he saw many wizards, witches, and God forbid, muggle parents all running around as the whistle on a large, steaming, bright red train blew hard.

Tom smiled the largest smile he had ever put on as he made his way to the Hogwarts express, after getting a teenager to help him lift the cart onto the train.

He pulled it through the corridors until he found a compartment that had only one beautiful, blonde girl in it.

Suzan looked up and waved at Tom excitedly as he entered.

"Hey there," he said.

"Hi. Hey, that thing looks WAY to heavy to lift onto the luggage rack. My parents taught me this important spell. Here."

She pulled out her wand.

"Wingardium Leviosa."

She muttered the incantation as she pointed her wand at the trunk. It began to go into the air, before settling on the luggage rack.

"Thanks," Tom said to her.

"You're very welcome," she replied back as he sat across from her.

"So, if you've lived with muggles your whole life, do you even know about quidditch?"

"No," Tom sighed.

"Oh goodie! Now I get to tell you ALL about it. It's the best game in the whole world."

She went into an entertaining rant about how there were four balls, three kinds. She spoke about the different players and then gave him important information such as who the best teams were and the most amazing things that had occurred in the history of world wide Quidditch game play.

After a while, a tall boy with an amused looking face because of a sneer and light brown hair came to open the door.

"Hi there. I'm Avery. Mind if I come hang out in here?"  
"Not really," Tom said as Suzan agreed. Tom needed as much wizarding company as he could get.

Avery sat next to Suzan and asked

"So what are your names?"

It was growing dark and Tom soon realized that he had one of the most crowded compartments. They had been joined by a tall dark brown haired boy named Lastrange, a girl with red hair named Sinastra, and a smaller black haired boy named Bark.

They all talked excitedly about the Slytherin house which to Tom sounded like it was the one of the highest honor. He noticed that Suzan seemed uncomfortable with the prejudice talk against muggles and muggle borns, or as the racial slur was, 'mudbloods'.

It grew very dark out and they all began to change into their robes.

When the train came to a stop at last, they all got their bags and stepped out into the chilly open night.

An aged voice yelled out

"FIRST YEARS! FIRST YEARS FOLLOW ME TO THE BOATS!"

A tall man with grey hair that looked as if he had a strong build to him came to them all holding a lantern.

"Me name's Apollyon Pringle. You will address me as Mr. Pringle. Understood?

They nodded.

This man was clearly very stern and not to be taking jokingly, even if his name WAS Apollyon.

"Follow me 'ter the boats," he called out to them.

All of the first years followed with enthusiasm, clearly anxious to see Hogwarts.

There were four to a boat with Tom, Suzan, Avery, and Lastrange in one boat.

They all began to sail off in a great black lake that Tom had heard on the train was rumored to have a baby giant squid growing.

They all turned a corner and the whole atmosphere seemed to change dramatically. All of the students were stunned and awed by the amazement of a gigantic black castle with one particular tower that was the largest over the others. There were flickering lights inside the windows as if they had torches lit and on the mountain Hogwarts sat upon, there was a winding staircase from the boat houses up to the entrance courtyard.

"It is beautiful, isn't it?" Suzan commented.

"Indeed it is," Tom said, sneering.

They reached the boat house and all clambered out onto the rock.

"Al' righ'," Pringle started. "Let's get up 'ter the school then. Just so you know, I'm the game keeper and the caretaker so if you try sneaking about the castle at night, I'll have you whipped."

Tom noticed that the man had a cheery look at the thought.

They all began to walk up the winding stairway to the front courtyard that was built with benches and a stone ground. Two of the largest brass double doors Tom had ever laid eyes on, stood guard in front of what was probably the entrance hall.

Fascinated, Tom followed the others eagerly until they came to a full stop as Pringle began to knock loudly on the doors.

The slowly swung backward into the large entrance hall and tall older man who Tom immediately recognized as Professor Dumbledore, now wearing long red robes.

"Hello there. My name's Professor Dumbledore and I am the Transfiguration teacher. I should tell you who your other teachers shall be this year. Your defensive magic teacher, or defense against the dark arts, is Professor Marythought. That name alone seems as optimistic as Marythought himself. Your potions teacher, Professor Slughorn, your Charms teacher Professor Flitwick, this is HIS first year as a teacher, an older gentleman named Professor Bins, Professor Lorendo as the Herbology instructor, and me as your

Transfiguration teacher AND deputy headmaster to the true head. So, let us all prepare to go inside for you to be sorted into the four houses. Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw….and Slytherin."

Tom's eyes beamed as he heard the name Slytherin. It seemed to call to him.

"Just so you know, any good deeds shall win house points. The house cup is awarded to the one house with the most points at the end of the year. Winning the Quidditch cup could also help but we do not allow first years to play for their house teams."

There were a few disappointed groans that were quickly ceased as Pringle stamped his right foot loudly on the floor.

Dumbledore smiled again and turned to enter two more doors that were smaller and gold.

"Follow me," he told them.

He pushed the doors open and led the first years through the magnificent, Great Hall.

The whole entire ceiling showed the weather outside, tonight a pretty bluish black with many aliened stars, there were candles floating above, huge bright torches lit, and five tables. The first four were in a row, facing the doors. The largest and fifth table was obviously the head table which was seated on a small podium. All of the teachers sat at this table and in the middle on a golden King's chair, there was a very tall man with heavy looking red robes. He looked even more aged then Dumbledore. This man had long silver hair that reached all the way down to his ankles, and he also had a pointed hat that matched the color of his robes.

"Here are the first years Armando, sorry, I mean Professor Dippet," Dumbledore said to the man.

Dippet nodded as the first years all assembled in front of a four legged stool with a brown ripened old hat on the seat.

They waited.

The older students, who were sitting at the other tables, all waited with baited breath.

The brim of the hat opened wide like a large mouth and it began to sing.

"FOR ALL OF YOU KIDS WHO ARE TIMID AND AFRAID, DON'T YOU WORRY, DON'T YOU SCURRY FAR AWAY. I AM HERE TO PUT YOU WERE YOU'LL BE BEST! SO YOU CAN BE HAPPY AND GO WITH ALL THE REST. YOU MIGHT BE A SLYTHERIN, WERE THEY ARE CLEAVER WITH PLANS! ONCE YOU'RE THERE, HAVE IT TO BEAR, YOU PART OF THEIR CLANS! OR MAYBE A WISE OLD RAVENCLAW! OR A TRUTHFUL HUFFLEPUFF! YOU'LL GET THERE SOON AND WE SHALL EAT, THE FOOD IS NOT RAW! BE GOOD THOUGH, OR YOU'LL GET A CUFF! PERHAPS IN DEAR OLD GRYFFINDOR, THE MOST HEROIC OR THE FOUR! AS POWERFUL AND STRONG AS A LOIN OR A BOAR! SO PUT ME ON DON'T BE AFRAID, DON'T YOU DARE WORRY! DON'T GO FAR AWAY! DON'T YOU DARE SCURRY, LIKE A COMMON RAT! FOR I'M THE SORTING HAT!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished his song.

When the clapping subsided, Dumbledore took out a sheet of parchment and said

"When I call your name, please take the hat, put it on your head, and sit on the stool."

He glanced at the list.

"Suzan Anderson!"

Suzan nervously walked up and sat in the stool.

The hat was placed on her head and it slipped past her eyes.

"RAVENCLAW!" the hat yelled to cheers from the Ravenclaw table.

Dumbledore read again.

"Marcus Arithnet."

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

After a very long time of sorting in alphabetical order by surnames, Professor smiled as he called out

"Tom Riddle!"

Tom coolly began to walk up to the podium where the stool was. He sat upon the seat and allowed Dumbledore to place the hat over his little head.

Just at the moment when the hat touched his head, only a very short instant afterword, the hat cried out

"SLYTHERIN!"

Dumbledore didn't looked the least bit surprised or shocked at this as Tom happily hopped off the stool and ran to the table that was farthest to his right or the left if one were to enter the hall.

Tom glanced over at Suzan, who was still smiling at him from the Ravenclaw table, but her smile looked slightly half heartedly and it ended very quickly.

Soon after,

"Avery Whitefield!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Tom looked up as the rest of his new group of friends was sorted, all into Slytherin.

Finally, the sorting ceremony was completed and Professor Dippet stood.

"I am glad to see you all here today," he called to them. His voice was fairly high pitched but didn't seem to have as much emotion to it as Dumbledore's did. His face looked cheerful however as he went on

"Now we are all probably very hungry and so I shall get to the point. For those of you who do not know, the Forbidden forest is….well…forbidden, hence the name. The Astronomy Tower is off limits unless you are taking a class. There is no magic to be used in the corridors between classes even though I know you want to. Any of you wishing to play for your house teams should speak with the team captains or your head of house. The head of Slytherin is Professor Slughorn, the head of Ravenclaw is Professor Flitwick, the head of Hufflepuff is Professor Marythought, and the head of Gryffindor is Professor Dumbledore."

The older student seemed not to care in the least as they already new this information.

"And finally," Dippet resumed. "Starting this year, you must be in second year or higher to play for your house teams."

Tom didn't seem interested in playing, although perhaps watching the games take place would be enough.

"And now, let us eat!" Dippet finished.

The empty gold plates were suddenly filed with delectable foods such as roast and grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, turkey, peas, lobster, shrimp, snapper, green beans, rise, and the reddest crab that Tom had ever seen.

He began to fill his plate with a little of everything. Soon, the gold vanished in a shower of food groups. He almost chugged his water and pop and soon arrived at the desserts as they magically appeared, dissolving the supper.

After they had all eaten, Dippet stood once again and shouted

"Imagine that we eat like this almost every day!"

Some people laughed.

"Soon, you'll all be as large and stuffed as me!" the large man, Slughorn, joked.

Slughorn had light brown hair, wrinkles around his mouth from smiling, and a rather large stomach gut.

He seemed a jolly man, Tom thought.

The students laughed, all apparently fairly found of Slughorn.

"Very amusing Horace. But you mustn't be so hard on yourself. At least you aren't as aged as I am. Now, off to bed. Prefects will lead their first years to the dormitories. Good night to you all and make sure you are well rested for a whole day of lessons tomorrow!"

Tom rose with his friends, very full of food, and he began to follow a sixth year boy and girl from his house who claimed to be the prefects for Slytherin house.

They were all led to another entrance hall on the other side of Hogwarts, over a large bridge near the entrance courtyard.

When they entered what was called the vacant entrance hall, they were led down a spiraling staircase in a side chamber. When they reached the corridor, they found that they were in the dungeons.

"Welcome home children," the boy, Aidan, exclaimed as the girl, Michele, laughed.

"That door," Michele said, pointing to a small brown door. "-is the door to the Potions classroom just so you know. Now follow me."  
"Follow US," corrected Aidan.

They came to another staircase, but this one wasn't spiral, and it lead to a stone wall.

They all crowded at the bottom waiting.

"The password," Aidan started. "-is…Hallows!"

The wall began to slide aside, sinking into the opposite wall.

All of the first years entered excitedly as Tom gaped at the common room.

It was very large with green walls, what looked like fish tanks on the bulwark, many group tables to work at, a large desk in the middle, and a sitting area with a two couches and an arm chair in front of a radiating fire place. Tom felt annoyed as he saw that the arms chair and the couches were already taken by teenage students.

"Well, through that hall and to your left are the girl dorms and to the right are the boy dorms," Michele led. "Night!"

She held Aidan's arm as they left the children standing there.

"Shall we go up stairs then?" Tom asked Avery.

"Indeed," he said.

Tom and the other boys all walked up to the boys' dorm area, walking up another stairway, and through a door that read 'First Years'.

Tom walked in with the others to see that his things had already been placed on a four poster bed that was aliened in a circle with the other beds.

"Well, I believe that I'm going to take a shower then," Lastrange announced, leaving the room.

Tom sat down on his bed, finally away from his cold small, cramped room back at that orphanage. Finally….he was free.


	3. Chapter 3

Tom Marvolo Riddle. The Story

Chapter 3

The morning of the first day of school involved many students sleeping in, not yet used to the original timetables. Tom quickly dressed himself after taking a very brief morning shower. After his Hogwarts uniform, long black robes over a black sweater and pants, with a white buttoned up shirt underneath, and green and black tie.

Tom grabbed his school bag and ran into the dungeons with the older kids. He slowed to a walk as he noticed they weren't running any longer.

Avery came behind him along with Lastrange.

The prefect, Aidan, looked and saw that three of the first years had arrived.

"Bringing your bag to breakfast then?" he asked Tom, making the other older kids snicker.

Tom would have blushed if not for his sense of pride and so he did not show and signs of embarrassment.

"I'm just messing with you kid," Aidan laughed, putting an arm around Tom. "It's probably better to do that. You can get to classes quicker. See that? You just taught a prefect a lesson!"

"Prefects aren't perfect," another teen chuckled.

All of the teenagers allowed Tom and his friends to sit with them. At first, one of the fifth years protested but they were waved down by Aidan.

"Nah, they can stay. I like this kid," he said, patting Tom on the back.

Tom smiled lightly and went back to his food.

He glanced up to see that the weather was a stunning, clear, blue sky. Through the windows, he could even see a dazzling sun shining bright.

When the bell rang, Tom gathered his things and looked at the first year schedule for Slytherins that Avery was holding.

"We've got Potions first," Avery read. "It's with Professor Slughorn. He's head of our house so let's see if he's any good to those in his clan."

They walked down back the area that was supposed to lead to where their common room was. They stepped into the group in front of the door that Michele had said led into the Potions classroom.

They all stood there, waiting if they could enter, before the door was opened and a large belly protruded out first, then followed by the man, Horace Slughorn.

"Why HELLO THERE!" he greeted, blissfully. "I'm overjoyed to finally have some new students. Last year was a long year and the first years weren't exactly my favorite classes, just between you and me. HEH HEH HEH!

Tom had almost expected him to laugh "Ho, ho, ho".

"Now, let us enter and begin the learning process. Welcome to Hogwarts!"

They all entered the Potions room where Tom saw that it was built like a rather large storage room. There were potion bottles and mixtures along with ingredients along the shelves on the walls. There were five tables that could sit at least five or six people that already had holders for their cauldrons.

Slughorn told them all to take a seat. The Slytherins would be having this class with the Hufflepuffs this year.

"Now," Slughorn said, sounding like it was time for business. "Now that everyone is seated, it is time to begin brewing. First today, I want you all to concoct a certain potion that is a very simple first year potion. I wish for you to make me a cure for boils. Also good for pimples I hear, for any of you that will experience THAT during puberty in a couple years time."

He then instructed them to look in their books to the chapter where they would find 'The cure for boils'. Tom quickly began to pour the beginning liquid into his cauldron and then picked up the first ingredient.

"And, time is UUUPPP!" Slughorn called to the students. "Now, let's take a look at what you've all come up with today."

He walked around all of them, looking in each cauldron before he finally came to Tom's.

"Ah, Mr.-?"

"Riddle sir," Tom answered.

"Mr. Riddle," Slughorn said. "What do we have here?"

"Um… the cure for boils sir?" Tom questioned more than answered, hoping he hadn't done anything wrong.

"Very well done Mr. Riddle! And what would be your first name?"

"Tom," he said.

"Tom Riddle?" Slughorn thought out loud, thinking if this boy was related to someone extraordinary. "No, I don't think I'm familiar with that name. Are you muggle born?"  
"No!" Tom retorted, a little snappish. He calmed himself and then replied

"No sir, I am not. I happen to have one muggle mother, I think, and one wizard father whom I'm named after. Do you know if you might have taught a wizard named Tom Riddle?"  
"None except the one I'm talking to now," laughed Slughorn. "Your potion is my favorite so far. Better than things I see come out of older students I must say when they're in my class. You have a good knack for brewing boy. So, let me just say that you can take a full thirty points for Slytherin. I am proud to have you in my house."  
He then walked away muttering

"Probably smarter than a Ravenclaw."

Later, Tom and his friends walked up to the Transfiguration courtyard and finally into the large, bright classroom.

There was a tall light brown haired girl talking with Professor Dumbledore. She was obviously in second or third year and when she turned to leave, she smiled at the children.

After she was gone, Dumbledore said

"That was Minerva McGonagall. A very talented young witch I must say. Now, let us begin."

Today, Dumbledore had on a long yellow pair of robes and a matching pointed hat.

"Transfiguration," he called to the Slytherins and Ravenclaws. "-is a very complicated set of magical arts. I myself have a knack for the subject but it is most certainly NOT for everyone. I once had a student, who thought he knew everything, thought he was above all of us. He ended up becoming so full of himself that he managed to push all of his friends away and he even failed most of his classes in O.W.L exams. For those of you who don't know, that means 'Ordinary Wizarding Level examinations'. You'll have those in fifth year. Remember to study hard. Of course, you must also study for your exams this year as well. Now, let us begin with a demonstration."

Dumbledore pulled out his wand and made his chair lift into the air and suddenly transform into an abnormally large pineapple which made some of the students laugh.

"I'm afraid," the laughing Dumbledore said, putting the (once again) chair back on the floor. "-that you won't be doing that for LONG time. Let us now try turning a small beetle into a prick. Next time we can try turning it back into a beetle."

All in all, even though Slughorn was Tom's favorite teacher, Defense against the dark arts was probably his favorite and best subject.

He enjoyed reading in History of magic but wished that the droning Bins would shut up. The man looked as if he would drop dead any second.

Herbology with Professor Lorendo wasn't a very good class. Lorendo complained quite often and hardly seemed to care if a child was injured.

"Just go to the hospital wing," he would say, grumpily.

Charms was a very entertaining class. The small wizard (with a mixture of dwarf in him) named Professor Flitwick was a funny little man. He was only about three feet tall or so and he had black hair with a long mustache under his nose.

Professor Marythought however, seemed to also be a very good teacher.

He was optimistic about almost everything and his catch phrase seemed to be "Could be worse."

While entering his class, Tom noticed that it seemed the most well built and had an air of importance in it.

The room was large and painted the pale color of Tom's skin. There were desks all facing a small spiral staircase that led up to a door.

There were several different objects on tables against the walls, such as fake skull heads and small objects that were labeled 'sneakascopes'.

As the Gryffindors and Slytherins all sat down at the desks, the door behind them was thrown open and Professor Marythought entered.

Marythought was tall with long white hair and a beard. He had a blue left eye and an eye patch over the other one.

He wore a large black top hat with a red ribbon around it. He also had on a cape that was purple on the inner side and black on the outer side. He had a red shirt and a green coat over it with a gold chain and a cold pin on it which gave the impression that Marythought was a very wealthy man. Perhaps he had another profession besides teaching.

He carried a long walking stick with a gold handle with, what looked like a blue diamond on the top.

He spoke to them with a surprisingly gruff voice and his left eye starred at them as he talked.

"Welcome to Defense against the dark arts. My name is Professor Marythought and I am your instructor. I know by the way I dress that I appear rich. That is because, for those of you who don't know, I used to be the head of the auror office and my time served me well. I have only been teaching here for about five years so that only adds to my auror retirement fund that I earned. Work hard and you might just be as lucky. Now, today I thought we'd start out with a good lesson on how to defend yourselves before we learn what you're going to use to attack. EXPELLIAMUS is a disarming charm that you can use to cast the wand out of your opponent's hand. Then you can attack. I am going to need a volunteer."  
Tom's hand shot into the air before anyone had decided weather or not to help.

"Mr. Riddle?" Marythought asked.

"Yes sir," Tom said.

"Come up then."

Tom walked up to where Marythought stood.

"Now, take your wand out."

Tom did so.

"All you have to do is move your wand like this-,"

He flicked his wand quickly in a flash of a circular motion.

Now, all I want you to do is cast Expelliamus at me to knock my wand out of my hand."

Marythought removed his wand from his pocket and made his walking stick disappear.

Tom nodded for Marythought to call him to start.

"Begin!" Marythought shouted.

"EXPALLIAMUS!"

Marythought's wand flew into the air, fast as lightning, and fell into Tom's hand.

The class was silent before Marythought laughed.

"Haha, brilliant work Mr. Riddle. I've never seen a student who was a first year do THAT well on their first try! What was your first name again?"

"Tom sir," Tom said. "Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Later that evening in the staff room, all of the first year teachers began to talk of the delightfully bright student known as Tom Riddle.

"I mean, he was absolutely astonishing at Charms!" Flitwick insisted.

"I thought he was one of the best damn potion makers I have ever worked with," Slughorn said.

"Shot my wand outta my hand right before I could even say anything else!" Marythought chortled.

"He was actually the only student who didn't throw me off my hinges with annoyance," Lorendo admitted.

"And this was only the first day!" Slughorn realized. "Imagine what the boy'll be like when he graduates!"

All of the teachers made noises of agreement except one of them.

"What's got you so quite Albus?" Marythought asked. "Afraid that this boy will steal your fame?"  
"I have never been worried about such a thing. In fact, I have always wanted a student to show such remarkable talent," Dumbledore said with an air of care freeness. He was holding a class of gin while sitting in the most comfortable arm chair.

"I only believe the boy has a dark side. I don't think it will turn him into anything dangerous but I still thought that when I met him at the orphanage…there was just something about him."  
There was a silence before Slughorn laughed and inquired

"How so Albus?"

"Well you see," Dumbledore began. "He can speak Parstletoung."

There was more silence, even more uneasy still.

"And how-," asked a higher pitch of a voice as Professor Dippet entered the room. "-do you know this as a fact Albus?"

"Because headmaster," Dumbledore explained, raising himself up slightly in the armchair. "-he confided in me that he could speak to snakes. He asked me if that was considered NORMAL for a wizard. I told him it was uncommon but not unheard of."  
"Well, that's why he's in Slytherin then," Slughorn said, trying to cover up the awkwardness. "Salazar Slytherin could speak to serpents."

"Well," Marythought started, looking slightly disappointed. "Slytherin was a dark wizard who murdered Ravenclaw and ordered his favorite student to go after her daughter. They both still roam these walls as ghosts as we all know. Also, he assisted the rule of Mordor over the country Gondor by the dark lords Souran and Souroman. Parstletoung is considered a dark art."  
"But," Dumbledore put in. "Young Tom can't control it if he can speak it. So I would not consider it a crime or a sin depending on how he plans to use it."

"You see?" Slughorn exclaimed. "Even Dumbledore agrees. There is still not a thing wrong with the boy."  
"Here here," Flitwick said.

"I would think that you'd all want to focus on the good things about young Tom Marvolo Riddle," Dippet reminded.

"Yes," Marythought told. "Let us put this out of our minds and go to bed in our offices. Good night to you all."

Everyone all muttered responses as they began to clear the darkened staff room.

Dumbledore ran into his office and to the book shelves. He pulled out his large dusty copy of 'The oldest Wizarding Family Trees' and began to search frantically in the candle light.

Finally, he came to what he was searching for.

SALAZAR SLYTHERIN.

He read through his descendents and came to one name that he had been searching for.

"Aha," he murmured under his breath. "Marvolo Gaunt."

After Marvolo's children, Morfin and Merope, he couldn't see any known living descendent.

All he saw was that Morfin was alive and in Azkaban wizarding penitentiary, while Marvolo himself had died in prison many years earlier.

Merope was considered dead but it was hinted that she had married once. It was not known to whom she was married or if she had any children but Dumbledore had a hunch that she was the mother of Tom Riddle. She had said that he was to be named exactly after his father when it came to first and surname. It also read that Morfin and Marvolo had both been imprisoned by the ex head of the Magical Law enforcement squad.

"What a nightmare," Dumbledore spoke to himself. "First I hear of a second world war between the German and American muggles with other countries involved and now I discover that one of the darkest wizards of all time might possibly have a living descendent. If so, what course of action would I have to take against this child? And who was the ex head of the magical law enforcement?"

Dumbledore continued to mutter to himself as the evening grew older as he had always felt it was useful. Finally, he came to a conclusion.


	4. Chapter 4

Note: I would like for anyone who reads this story to right a review. You do not have to put your real name as I accept anonymous reviews. Reviews are the best things for an author on here can receive and I feel like I should know what everyone thinks of this Tom Riddle fic. Enjoy the rest of the story and I hope you all enjoyed chapters 1 through 3.

Disclaimer: I use a scene from one of the books in this chapter. The Gaunt House scene belongs to J.K Rowling as does most of the orphanage scene in chapter one.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. THE STORY

CHAPTER FOUR

PART THREE- THE VERY SECRET RIDDLE

The next few months of the first term passed through joyfully as Tom soon became the most popular first year in his house not only to the students but to the teachers as well.

Professor Slughorn always looked in on Tom's work during classes as he brewed potions, Slughorn ignoring the other students completely.

Tom and his comrades, who he never referred to as 'friends' for some reason, had become a large group that was growing even larger so. Tom was becoming thoughtful of the fact that this group had no name. And so, Tom spoke with Avery one evening.

"I actually think that we deserve a good name," Tom explained.

"Well, what'd you have in mind Tom?" asked Avery, sitting on the sofa one chilly Saturday afternoon in November.

"Well, I always thought that death was the worst thing in the world. There is nothing worse. So I wondered if we became as strong as Nicholas Flamel or perhaps Grindalwad, then we could overcome the weakness of death. And so, I thought that we could call ourselves…the Death Eaters."

There was a pause before Avery smiled and thought to himself.

"Yeah…yeah that sounds pretty good. I say yes,"

"Well, it's settled then," Tom said. "We are the death eaters."

Soon after, Christmas time came to Hogwarts. The Knight Armor suits in the corridors were decorated with Santa Claus hats while the tallest of Christmas trees were put up in the Great Hall.

Specially trained fairies flew above the tables, showering gold shimmers that evaporated before coming too low.

There was also a beautifully decorated Christmas tree in the Slytherin common room, right next to the fire. It had blue and gold tree garland with hanging balls of many colors hung on the branches. There were bright lights here and there on the tree and on the top there was a silver star that magically turned into an angel every five minuets.

Tom sat at the Slytherin table, about to gorge his delicious Christmas Eve dinner.

Professor Dippet stood and addressed the students.

"Merry Christmas to you all! I am glad to see that you are all here and I have a delightful announcement. We are going to be holding auditions for a theater performance of the classic wizarding children's tale 'The fountain of fair fortune'. Those wishing to audition should come to the Great Hall on January third at five o'clock in the evening. And now, let us enjoy our wonderful feast, cooked by those brilliant house elves. Let's eat!"  
Tom raised an eyebrow as the food appeared. He had never been aware that house elves cooked the food and by the look on the other children's faces, even older students, they hadn't known either. Tom knew SOMEONE had to make it as it was impossible to make high quality food appear with magic without summoning it. The same went for money which was illegal to counterfeit by magic.

"So Tom," said Aidan. "How's Christmas?"  
"This is actually my first Christmas that wasn't ruined by other children at the orphanage," Tom replied, gloomily looking over his past.

"Well, things at Hogwarts are better right?"

"Definitely," Tom agreed with him.

Up at the staff table, Dumbledore (who had made sure to get a seat next to Marythought who was today dressed in a white shirt with a green vest) asked him the pondering question.

"Are you aware who the last head of the Magical law Enforcement squad was?

"I believe," Marythought started. "I believe that it was a man called Bob Ogden. Yes, that was who it was. Brilliant man, he was."  
"Is he still living?"

"Yes, yes, of course. He is retired at the small town that is quite near here, Duff town."

"Thank you Professor," Dumbledore said, rising from his seat with a questioning look from the other teachers.

He walked over to Professor Dippet and asked

"Sir, would it be alright if I were to take a temporary leave of absence after Christmas day?"

"Certainly Albus, take the rest of the month off. There's not going to be anything interesting here," laughed Dippet.

Dumbledore smiled and sat back down in his seat next to Marythought.

"Also Marythought, would you by any chance be able to pass the pudding?"

"Tom, oh Tom get up!" Avery shouted, shaking his friend.

"Wh- what?" stammered Tom, rising in his bed. "Why? We're on break!"

"Yeah, but it's only Christmas day! Get up you old Scrooge! You must've been visited by the three ghosts of Christmas already!" laughed Avery.

"I hope you are referencing the WIZARDING version of that story."  
"Of course, of course! Now come on, it's CHRISTMAS!" he shouted, beginning to unwrap his presents.

Date: December 27th. 1941

Albus Dumbledore walked to the small house in Duff Town, fairly separate from the rest of the neighborhood. He knocked on the door and it was answered by a small man who was very plump, with thick glasses that mad his eyes look extremely tiny and a squeaky voice when he said

"Good afternoon. My name's Bob Ogden. Who are you?"

"My name is Professor Dumbledore. I am here to ask you about a family you visited many years ago."  
"Dumbledore? Well, come right in Professor."

Dumbledore entered the small space which had a kitchen in the front with a bathroom and a bedroom. There was also a sitting room near the back.

"I know I know. I can afford much better but I don't see much reason too. So, you come from Hogwarts I expect?" he asked, sitting down in an arm chair and gesturing for Dumbledore to do the same.

"Indeed," Dumbledore answered.

Ogden laughed.  
"Don't you at least OWN that school yet? You'd be a brilliant head master, no, a brilliant Minister of Magic."  
"I am still a teacher I'm afraid," Professor Dumbledore smiled. "Now I would like to ask you about….about the Gaunt Family."

Ogden's smile faded.

"Oh," he said. "Well…I went down there after the son, Morfin was accused of attacking that muggle."  
"And what was the muggle's name?" asked Dumbledore.

"It was Tom Riddle," Ogden told.

Dumbledore sighed as the truth came to him.

"And what of Merope? Did she seem to have a likeness for the muggle?"

"Yes. She was absolutely in LOVE with him. But the poor dear wasn't pretty; however she had a strong heart. She deserved better than that BASTARD Marvolo."

"Where is Marvolo now?"

"He….died in Azkaban I think."  
"And what of his children?"  
"That I only know about Morfin. He was just released from Azkaban, and God knows why, he had such a temper. Anyway, I expect he still lives in the old Gaunt house these days. As for Merope, I heard from somewhere that she was dead."  
"Do you know if she ever saw the muggle again?"

Ogden thought.

"I…..THINK that she may have seen him again but I don't know. I also heard that he did marry but his wife vanished after the neighbors reported hearing the two struggle. Expected abuse, you know. Perhaps he DID deserve what Morfin gave him?"

"I don't know about that," Dumbledore said. "Now, do you know if his wife was pregnant?"

"I have no idea. Now, if you'd like, I could show you my memory."  
"What do you mean?" asked Dumbledore, curiously.

Ogden smiled.

He put his wand to his temple and retracted it. It had a silver wisp on it that was string like but was neither gas nor liquid.

"Come to my pensive."

"Oh, I have one of those," Dumbledore laughed.

He walked over to a large floating dish that had a blue substance in it.

Ogden put the memory in it and it suddenly turned to black ink. It swirled around until it had created an image of a small shack that looked abandoned.

"In we go," Ogden said, gesturing for Dumbledore to go in.

He did so.

The feeling was miraculous.

He felt like he was falling but he had no fear and he slowly and softly landed on the ground.

Ogden appeared next to him.

"They shall not be able to see us just so you know," Ogden said.

The past Ogden with shorter lighter hair and a frog suit with a bathing suit under it came up to the house.

"My past self is about to lead us to the village of Little Hangleton," Ogden told as they continued to walk.

Soon they had come to the house and saw that on the door, there was a snake nailed to the door.

Suddenly, a man leapt down from a nearby tree.

The raggedy dressed man had thick dark hair, a lopsided mouth, and two lazy eyes glared at Ogden who backed away.

Suddenly, a hissing noise that made Dumbledore's spine shiver came from the man's mouth.

Ogden tried to cover this by stuttering

"Er- good morning. I'm from the Ministry of Magic-,"

The man made the unnerving hissing noise again and Dumbledore realized what it was as this was Slytherin's relative.

"Er- I'm sorry- I don't understand you," said Ogden nervously.

"He is speaking Parstletoung Mr. Ogden," the present Dumbledore said to the present Ogden who nodded and commented

"Yes, I figured that out when I found out who his ancestor was."

The man began to advance on Ogden, knife in one hand, wand in the other.

"Now, look-," Ogden began.

BANG!

Ogden fell to the ground clutching his nose which now had a good deal of yellow puss protruding from the nostrils.

The present Ogden put his hand to his own nose and shuddered.

"Morfin!" yelled a loud voice.

Another man came from the house. He was shorter that Morfin with oddly broad shoulders and arms that hung too low which gave him the look of an aged old monkey.

"Ministry is it?" the older man asked.

"Correct!" shouted the angry Ogden, rising from the ground. "And you, I take it, are Mr. Gaunt?"

"S'right," said Gaunt. "Got you in the face, did he?"

"Yes, he did!"

"Should've made your presence known, shouldn't you? This is privet property. Can't just walk in here and not expect my son to defend himself."

"Defend himself against what, man?" said Ogden.

Mr. Gaunt thought for a moment and then aggressively answered

"Busybodies. Intruders. Muggles and filth."

Ogden pointed his wand at his damaged nose and magically made the flowing puss cease.

Mr. Gaunt turned to his son and forced him to go into the house by ordering him in Parstletoung once again.

Morfin looked as if he would argue but ran angrily into the house.

Once he was gone, Ogden continued

"It's your son I'm here to see, Mr. Gaunt," said Ogden. "That was Morfin wasn't it?"

"Ar, that was Morfin. Are you pure-blood?"

"That's neither here nor there," Ogden replied coolly.

Gaunt squinted at Ogden and said in an offensive way

"Now I come to think about it, I've seen noses like yours down in the village."  
"I don't doubt it, if your son's been let loose on them," said Ogden. "Perhaps we could continue this discussion inside?"  
"Inside?"

"Yes Mr. Gaunt. I've already told you. I'm here about Morfin. We sent an owl-,"

"I've no use for owls. I don't open letters."

"Then," Ogden began. "You can hardly complain that you get no warning for visitors. I am here following a serious breach of Wizarding law, which occurred here in the early hours of this morning-,"

"All right, all right, all right!" bellowed Gaunt. "Come in the bleeding house, then, and much good it'll do you!"

They entered the small house that seemed even smaller then the home of Ogden. It contained three rooms only with Morfin sitting in a stuffy arm chair with an adder snake in his hands. He sung to it in Parstletoung.

Dumbledore saw that there was a girl in a raggedy grey dress that matched the dusty stone floor. She was busily cleaning the pots by hand, sweat on her brow.

She had a heavy face with hair that had a dull blackish color. Her eyes, like her brother's, were cross eyed and starred in different directions. Mrs. Cole had unfortunately been correct. This girl was no beauty.

"M'daughter Merope," Gaunt introduced grudgingly.

"Good morning," Ogden greeted cheerfully to her.

With a frightened look at her father, she continued to sort the pots.

"Well Mr. Gaunt," Ogden continued, gearing his attention back toward the horrid man in front of him. "to get straight to the point, we have reason to believe that your son, Morfin, performed magic in front of a muggle late last night."

There was a deafening clang as Merope accidently dropped one of the pots and Morfin laughed at her.

"PICK IT UP!" Gaunt roared at his poor daughter.

She bent down and he began to shout again

"That's it, grub on the floor like some filthy muggle, what's your wand for, you useless sack of muck?"

"Mr. Gaunt, please!" Ogden pleaded in a shocked voice, worried for Merope's safety.

She began to sob loudly as she pointed her wand at the pot and tried to levitate the pot. It shot across the room and crashed into the wall opposite her and cracked in two.

Morfin cackled more as Gaunt screamed

"Mend it, you pointless lump, MEND IT!"  
As Merope stumbled, Ogden assisted the abused girl by casting the simple incantation himself.

"Reparo," he said and the pot mended it self immediately.

Gaunt looked as if he would advance on Ogden by laughed and jeered

"Lucky the nice man from the Ministry's here, isn't it? Perhaps he'll take you off my hands; perhaps he doesn't mind dirty Squibs…,"

When the silence that followed allowed everyone to calm slightly, besides Merope who was still weeping, Ogden began again.

"Mr. Gaunt, as I've said: the reason for my visit-,"

"I heard you the first time!" snapped Gaunt. "And so what? Morfin gave a muggle a bit of what was coming to him- what about it then?"

"Morfin has broken Wizarding law," said Ogden sternly.

"'Morfin has broken Wizarding law'," Gaunt imitated as Morfin cackled like the fat idiotic child he was. "He taught a filthy muggle a lesson, that's illegal now, is it?"

"Yes," said Ogden. "I'm afraid it is."

He pulled from his inside pocket, a rolled up piece of parchment.

"What's that, then, his sentence?"

"It is a summons to the Ministry for a hearing-,"

"Summons? SUMMONS? Who do you think you are, summoning my son anywhere?"

"I'm Head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad!" shouted Ogden angrily, starting to get seriously irked by Gaunt, if now already wishing to kill the man.

Gaunt pointed one of his yellowed fingers at Ogden.

"And you think we're scum, do you?" Gaunt screamed at him. "Scum who'll come running when the Ministry tells 'em to? Do you know who you're talking to, you filthy little Mudblood, do you?"  
He waved his finger in front of Ogden, showing a black ring.

"See this? See this? Know what it is? Know where it came from? Centuries it's been in our family, that's how far back we go, and pure-blood all the way! Know how much I've been offered for this, with the Peverell coat of arms engraved on the stone?"

"I've really no idea," Ogden stammered.

Gaunt grabbed Merope by a golden chain on her neck and dragged her over to show the golden locket to Ogden's face, not caring that his daughter was choking and gagging.

"See this? See it?"  
"I see it! I see it!"  
"SLYTHERIN'S!" yelled Gaunt. Salazar Slytherin's! We're his last living descendents, what do you say to that?"  
"Mr. Gaunt, your daughter!"

Mr. Gaunt threw the choking girl back and said

"So! Don't you go talking to us as if we're dirt on your shoes! Generations of purebloods, wizards all- more than YOU can say, I don't doubt!"

And he spat on the floor at Ogden's feet, earning more cackles of giggling laughter from Morfin, his snake hissing.

"Mr. Gaunt, I am afraid that neither your ancestors nor mine have anything to do with the matter in hand. I am here because of Morfin, Morfin and the muggle he accosted late last night. Our information-," he glanced down at the paper-"is that Morfin performed a jinx or hex on the said muggle, causing him to erupt in highly painful hives."

Morfin giggled once again.

Gaunt ordered something else in Parstletoung and Morfin fell silent.

"And so what if he did, then? I expect you've wiped the muggle's filthy face clean for him, and his memory to boot-,"

"That's hardly the point, is it Mr. Gaunt? This was an unprovoked attack on a defenseless-,"

"Ar, I had you marked out as a muggle-lover the moment I saw you," Gaunt sneered. He spat again on the floor, making a puddle of his own saliva.

"This discussion is going nowhere!" Ogden said firmly to Mr. Gaunt. "It is clear from your son's attitude that he feels no remorse for his actions. Morfin will attend a hearing on the fourteenth of September to answer for the charges of using magic in front of a muggle and causing harm and distress to that same mugg-,"

Ogden broke off as the sound of hooves came from outside. Two people were laughing, a woman and a man. They both sounded young.

Gaunt froze along with his son as Merope looked up hopefully.

"My God, what an eyesore!" the girl shouted about the house they were passing.

You should see the inside, Dumbledore thought in his mind.

"Couldn't your father have that hovel cleared away, Tom?"

Dumbledore's eyes grew wider. If this man WAS Tom Riddle, then he would know if Merope and this man had had Tom junior as a child.

"It's not ours," Tom told her. "Everything on the other side of the valley belongs to us, but that cottage belongs to an old tramp called Gaunt, and his children. The son's quite mad, you should hear some of the stories in the village-,"

The girl laughed as Morfin made to get out of his chair but was ordered down by his father in Parstletoung.

"Tom," the girl said. "I might be wrong-but has somebody nailed a snake to that door?"

"Good lord, you're right! That'll be the son, I told you he's not right in the head. Don't look at it, Cecilia, darling."

Their laughter faded as they rode away.

Suddenly, the Gaunt family began to argue in the snake language, all of it seeming to be geared towards Merope."

From what Dumbledore could make out, Morfin had told Mr. Gaunt that Merope was in love with Tom Riddle senior.

Gaunt began to scream at her as he grabbed her neck

"No!" yelled Ogden. "RELASHIO!"

Mr. Gaunt was blasted away from his daughter and fell into a chair and onto the hard stoned floor.

Morfin screamed angrily once more and thrashed the knife at Ogden, who ran out for his life, disappartating as fast as he could.

Then it all went black as Dumbledore and Ogden re-appeared in the small house they'd been in before the memory observing.

After a few moments of silence, Dumbledore asked if he could have the memory. Ogden gave it to him in a thin glass bottle.

"I should have taken the daughter with me," he said. "She was badly beaten when we returned with more men. Marvolo, the arse he was, fought for 'his rights as a pure-blood'. Well, I certainly showed him what a muggle born could do with a wand!"  
"Good for you," Dumbledore said to the man he was beginning to respect even higher.

"Morfin was sent to Azkaban with his father. He inherited that damned ring when Marvolo FINALLY died in prison. With Marvolo dead, and her brother imprisoned, Merope decided to flee. Good thing too. Did you get everything you needed?"  
"Yes, I think so," Dumbledore decided, as he stood to leave.

"Thank you very much for everything. Professor Marythought was correct in saying you were brilliant."  
"Thank you very much," Ogden laughed. "And tell Marythought I said hello. He's a good man."

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, turning to the exit.

"Also," Ogden said. "Why did you inquire on these affairs? Has Morfin done anything else wrong?"

"No, not yet. Let's just say I'm trying to solve a very complex riddle," Dumbledore replied.

And with that, he turned to leave.


	5. Chapter 5

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. THE STORY

CHAPTER FIVE

PART FOUR- THE NEW NAME

Tom Riddle began working in the library, returning from his first ever Hogsmead visit. It was now third year and he had begun to work on what he thought was a mystery of the upmost importance. He began to search up more on his father.

"Tom Riddle," he muttered to himself, skimming though the books.

His finger moved down the pages, chapter by chapter. He looked up everywhere he could, becoming more irked and obsessed with the matter every day as he searched and searched and searched. Finally, he found a copy of a book that was much more recent than the others. It had been published in the mid-thirties. A book called 'The oldest Wizarding Family trees'. Tom flipped through the books before he came to a name he had not expected to find.

It said 'Salazar Slytherin'.

"Slytherin," murmured Tom.

The thirteen year old began to skim his eyes down the page, down the Slytherin family tree, one of the greatest of the Wizarding families. He came to the remaining family, most deceased. But there was one name that stuck out.

"Marvolo…Gaunt," Tom read to himself.

His eyes starred at the name. His middle name. He was named after this man.

Bellow were two more names. Morfin Gaunt….and Merope Gaunt. Both were close to the same age but it said that Merope was believed to be dead. Morfin was alive.

Could Morfin have fathered a child named Tom? But no. Then where would the name 'Riddle' come from? Besides, by reading the dates, he saw that Morfin was old enough to be Tom's father. Or…his uncle.

His eyes moved over to the name next to Morfin's. Merope Gaunt was the name. Had his mother been named Merope? Had….had his father been a….a….muggle?

"No!" Tom almost shouted in the dimness of the library. He picked the book up in a vile state of anger and threw it at the wall.

"No," he growled under his breath. "My mother was the weak muggle. That's why she was the one who died!"

Tears began to fall down his face quicker than he expected them to. His body shook with sobs as he realized that…for the first time in about three years…he was crying. No, he was sobbing to be accurate.

"N-n-no," he told himself. "I am not so weak as to cry anymore. I am NOT the little child I had once been at the damn orphanage!"  
"Indeed, you are not," said a voice from behind him.

Tom pulled out his wand and spun around, aiming the light at the eavesdropper.

Professor Dumbledore, his silver beard now down to his chest, his eyes unafraid of the wand in Tom's hand.

"You are NOT the boy you once were. You are different as I once told you. But this time, I am not entirely certain that you are different in a good way."

Tom starred with wide, tear stained eyes at Dumbledore and then…he lowered his wand as the Transfiguration teacher moved into the light.

"Do not try and wipe away the tears Tom. Crying is what makes us human."  
"A LOT of things makes us human!" shouted Tom, still teary. "But I want to be even more special. I still can't accept this."  
"I myself have been investigating your family tree ever sense you came to Hogwarts. Your uncle was a convicted muggle attacker. He now lives in a cottage just off Little Hangleton. Your grandfather was a terrible man, even worse than his son. His name was Marvolo Gaunt, one of your namesakes."  
Tom began to shake.

"W-wh-who entered my name for a p-place at this school? What was their name? You know don't you? You just figured it out. Tell the truth!"  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"Please tell the truth….sir," Tom asked through grinded teeth.

There was a silence as Dumbledore said

"That person's name…was…Merope Riddle. A witch, or a squib technically speaking, who was married to a muggle named Tom Riddle, your true namesake."

"A muggle and a squib?" Tom repeated, almost screaming at the discovery of him being born to the two things he detested the most.

"I might as well be a…mudblood!"  
"Please Tom, do not use that offensive term in front of m-,"

"You don't know what this is like!" Tom shouted. "Having parents whom you could never ever be proud of."  
"I know FULL WELL what it is like to have a parent you are not proud of. Long ago, something happened that wrecked my whole kin forever. Tom, please. Forget about the past…and learn to live in the present."

Tom stood there. He shook his head.

"My….parents where f…filth! Now tell me, does my father live?"  
"Yes. He lives in a house near your uncle's-,"  
"Then why didn't he take me in?"  
"Are you suggesting that you wish to be raised by a mug-,"

"I don't want to! But he abandoned me! Why? Why abandon a boy to live in an orphanage? My mother died in birth with me. This happened at the orphanage. I…I can't believe he never even came looking for me."  
He fell into his seat and broke back into sobs. Dumbledore wanted to go over and hug the boy, to show him that things can get better. He HATED seeing children cry. He had always hated seeing his younger brother and…and his younger sister crying.

"Tom," he said again.

The child looked up at Dumbledore.

"Your father abandoned your mother when she told him she was a witch. He beat her. She barely escaped with her life. I saw her in the pensive. In a memory I have revisited many times after that fateful Christmas two years ago. She was pitiful. I felt bad for her. She had a strong heart. I know that she would have been a good mother. Don't judge her so harshly. Your mother was a good woman Tom. Your father…isn't a good man."

Tom looked up, a dark looking smile on his face that looked out of place with the tears.

"Then I'm not gonna use his DAMN name anymore," he whispered, slightly giggling. "I am going to fashion myself a new name, a name that will one day mean something."  
"There is nothing wrong with ambition Tom. But please, DO be careful. And remember, you are the only child here who has the greatest right to be in this house. You are the only living descendent of Salazar Slytherin…one of the four founders of Hogwarts."

Tom walked through the sliding brick wall as fast as he could, walking fast. He became very heated and through off his shirt and tie. The many members of the death eaters watched him do so.

"Tom? Tom what's wr-," began Avery nervously.

"DON'T EVER CALL ME THAT AGAIN!" Tom snapped suddenly.  
Avery stepped back in shock.

"I WANT ANOTHER TITLE! A NEW NAME! THE NEW NAME! Get me a sheet of parchment and a quill NOW!" he ordered.

Some frightened first years handed him the objects he required.

Tom wrote down his full name.

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

He thought for a moment and then took each letter separately and moved them. He moved the 'I' first and the 'A'. After that came an 'M' and then another space like the one between the 'I' and the 'A'.

I AM

He skimmed more and removed the 'L' from its original place and then placed the letters 'O', 'R', and 'D'…and then another space.

I AM LORD

He took the 'V' and then the 'O' and then the 'L' and then the 'D'. He moved all of the letters of his original name and smiled at the brilliant new title he had selected for himself.

"This….this is what you all…and only you all shall call me from now on. No other person shall know of this name…yet."  
He raised the parchment and showed them all the name.

"THIS is my name."

On the sheet of paper it read

I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

PART FOUR- VOLDEMORT AND THE DEATH EATERS.

"Tom?" Professor Slughorn asked the forth year. "Hello, Tom? Are you still with us?"

Voldemort looked up from his day dreaming.

"Yes…yes I do apologize Professor Slughorn sir. I was in my own little world for some reason. I've been a little under the weather lately sir."

"Oh, it's alright, it's alright! Now, let us continue with the lesson, shall we?"

Voldemort thought once again on what he had been pondering over ever since the beginning of today's first day of forth year. Where was Little Hangleton? What was he going to do to the filthy muggle he had been born because of?

Voldemort walked away from the classroom after the bell finally rang, gathering his things as quick as possible.

For the small break he was about to have, Voldemort went up to the empty seventh floor corridor to think.

He walked into quite a few students and by the time he reached an empty hallway he thought about how much he needed a room where he could always go to…like a study perhaps?

He stopped. There was a noise behind him…a noise he didn't quite recognize. It sounded like the small grinding sound the brick wall downstairs made when it moved sideways.

He turned and saw, to his astonishment, that the empty brick wall had been replaced with two large double doors. The architecture on them looked as ancient at the doors themselves.

Voldemort looked around and saw that there was nobody there.

He turned back and pushed the doors open.

Voldemort walked inside and looked around, astounded at the amazement.

The room was as large as Professor Marythought's…no…as Professor Dippet's office. It had green drapes and carpets and a window that showed a strange vortex behind it.

There was even a fire place with armchairs twice as nice and comfortable as the ones in the Slytherin common room.

"What IS this place?" Voldemort asked himself.

Did anyone else know of this place? Of course not. The room had revealed itself to him…he was the chosen one.

I AM meant for something greater, he thought in his mind. I am not Tom Riddle. I am Lord Voldemort.

He put his hand on one of the green armchairs.

"My own place of solitude," he whispered.

He sat on the chair…it was the most restful thing he had ever sat on.

Voldemort closed his eyes…and thought of his plans.

"You're just some stupid little mudblood, aren't you?" growled Lastrange as Avery grabbed the squirming first year Gryffindor.

"I….I'm sorry. It's not my fault," the child pleaded with Lastrange. "Please don't…don't hurt me!"  
Lastrange punched the child in the stomach and laughed as he sank to the ground.  
He put his hand around the kid's throat and whispered in his ear

"We are the death eaters. Learn that name. Don't you forget it."

He threw the child down on the ground as he walked to the exit.

"Professor Dippet, please listen to me. Tom's friends…or those who are in his group are acting under his orders when they attack these muggle born children," Dumbledore insisted to Dippet, feeling odd for shouting at the headmaster in the head's office.

"There is no proof of that! All of them say that Mr. Riddle had nothing to do with it. Why are you so determined to hate this boy?"  
"I do NOT hate him! But there is something about him that worries me! He's going to take a very dark path and I wand to stop him from destroying his life!"

"He isn't going to do anything of the sort! Stop trying to hate him Dumbledore! He is our top student in the ENTIRE school! I plan on making him a PREFECT next year! Was Slughorn right in his joke, three and a half years ago? Are you jealous and worried that this child might steal your glory?"

"I told you… I WELCOME new talent! I just think that this boy might take all of his talent and do something stupid, perhaps sinister!"  
"THEN WHAT DO YOU SUGGEST WE DO THEN?"

Dumbledore calmed himself.

"At least let me TALK with him. Please let me talk-,"

"No! YOU ARE HERE BY FORBIDDEN TO SPEAK TO HIM ABOUT THESE AFAIRS! IF I HEAR THAT YOU HAVE CONFRUNTED HIM THEN I WILL FIRE YOU FROM THIS SCHOOL…FOREVER!"  
Dumbledore stood there, silent.

"Fine," he finished. "Fine then. Favor him. Take his side and treat him special because he is so brilliant. Ignore his sins and crimes. Ignore that the death eaters may even… I don't know…turn into something worse than a school ban of bullies. Just…fine."

He left the room, leaving Dippet feeling flabbergasted.


	6. Chapter 6

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

CHAPTER 6

PART FIVE- THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts for out older students! For our first years, welcome to year one!" Dippet greeted warmly as the children ceased the short discussion after the sorting.

Voldemort sat at the table with his death eaters, his new prefect badge gleaming on his chest. He had been speaking with a first year boy named Sanguini before the headmaster had called for their attention.

"I am also glad to announce that we have some new prefects this year, all in their fifth year and ready for the job. I would like to ask that we all be careful of our poltergeist, Peeves, as he has developed a knack for landing dungbombs on people's heads. Speaking of that, dungbombs are now prohibited here by order of Pringle.

Pringle narrowed his dark eyes, remembering the incident where Peeves had thrown what he THOUGHT had been a ball.

"And now, let us eat!" the headmaster completed.

The food appeared quickly this time. Last year, the house elves had been late for the first time in decades.

Tom began to eat his roast chicken as Sanguini talked of how he was planning on being a vampire hunter when he was an adult.

"Now, that is an interesting profession but I do believe that you'd make a very good death eater once we've all become more than a school group." Voldemort told.  
"Do you really think that I'd be good as a death eater?" Sanguini asked hopefully.

"Oh, indeed. Any Slytherin who hates muggles is allowed and welcome to join," Avery explained.

Sanguini smiled to himself at being accepted so easily.

Voldemort chuckled. If only he could tell his comrades what he was planning on doing THIS year. He had been studying the affair for four years now. Finally, he was going to open the doorway into Slytherin's greatest achievement ever.

Naturally, when the legend was first told, the school was searched for a chamber but never found one.

Voldemort knew though. He knew that Slytherin would only let his true heir find it. Voldemort was the heir of Slytherin…and he was going to put that to good use.

He walked through the halls as the night grew darker and darker and darker.

Finally, he was on the second floor, right in front of the girls' lavatory.

He smiled.

He had looked in here before and saw that there was a Slytherin crest on one of the sinks. He now had a hunch that he could force it to reveal the entrance.

Voldemort pushed the doors open and walked inside. His wand light was the only thing that kept the bathroom from being completely black.

There were a long line of stalls on one side and in the middle, a circle of sinks pushed together.

Voldemort smiled as he found the tap that had never worked.

On the side, there was an incrusted snake. It starred at Voldemort who looked at it as if it was a real serpent.

He closed his eyes. He then spoke in Parstletoung.

"OPEN UP….."  
He opened his eyes as the sinks began to move away from each other and the entrance sink slipped down into the floor.

There was a long black tunnel that led all the way down to what was undoubtedly the great Chamber of Secrets.

The next morning, Voldemort's eyes flipped open as he heard the sound of scared students down in the common room.

He rose, already dressed, knowing there would be one student found.

Voldemort walked down to find all of the students rushing out, muttering things about the grand staircase and the head girl, Minerva McGonagall.

Voldemort and his death eater group all walked briskly with everyone to the Grand Staircase where there was a seventh year girl lying on one of the landings.

"Is she dead?" Marythought questioned Dumbledore, who was examining the body.

"No," he sighed in a relieved tone.

Voldemort stopped; his eyes wide.

No, he thought. How the hell could she be still alive?

"Then what IS she?" Slughorn asked in an uneasy voice.

"She has been petrified," Dumbledore responded.

Tom shook his head slightly, thankful that nobody was paying him any attention for once.

Petrified? No….no, the Basilisk killed when one looked into its eyes. There was a curse on those eyes. They killed.

Voldemort's own eyes moved over to a small hand mirror by Minerva's hand.

Aha, he thought. She had only seen its reflection.

"Albus, what is that?" Marythought said, pointing at the mirror.

"I believe," Dumbledore started as he picked up the mirror. "That it is a hand mirror that she was most likely using to check her hair."  
"But that still doesn't explain how she ended up like this," Slughorn assured. "There is no spell I know of that can freeze up somebody THIS well. It's obviously NOT Petrificus Totalus!"  
"I KNOW Horace. I understand. Go and wake Armando. He has to come here now."

Voldemort moved away from the crowd, noticing that Dumbledore's eyes followed him suspiciously.

Damn that man, Voldemort thought. He suspects me!  
He walked up to the secret room he had discovered and thought about his study.

After it had appeared, Voldemort sat down on one of the armchairs and began to calculate the outcome of his next move.

I shall wait a while before releasing it again. I must let all of the tension die down. Yes…and then I will set the Basilisk on the mudbloods once again. I should try and kill next time….but without the old man watching. It would be unwise to let Dumbledore fight the basilisk. I'm sure he'd find a way to kill it and show everyone what I am.

Voldemort stopped immediately once he realized that Dumbledore would most likely know how to enter the mind and unhinge it. Voldemort needed to learn-

"I want an Oclumansy book NOW!" he yelled up into the room.

Right when he said it, a large book appeared next to him.

He picked it up and opened to the first chapter.

Before he went to bed, Voldemort began to clear his mind and think of nothing. Soon, it was all blank and the only thoughts he had were of certain types of school work and short recent memories of what he had done as a prefect this year.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall into sleep.

He was in a cloudy area, with no ground even though he stood on something solid. The clouds around him were black and grey mixed together and there was only one other person there.

Professor Dumbledore, dressed in silver robes and a matching pointed hat, with his beard a short bit lower than his chest.

He looked at Voldemort almost angrily.

"Did you do it Tom? Did YOU try an attempted murder on Minerva McGonagall? TELL THE TRUTH!" he commanded in the same voice and words Voldemort had always used ever since his later year at the orphanage with the muggles.

"No! No, you're incorrect Professor! You do that more often than you think!" Voldemort retorted piercingly over the strong winds.

"I am wrong not more than I know….I am usually wrong more than others know!"  
Voldemort winced as Dumbledore tried to pierce deeper into his mind.

"NO! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! GET OUT OF MY MIND! AAAAGGHHHH!" Voldemort screamed as he fell to the ground, clutching the ears on his head from the ringing sound in his brain.

He focused on the orphanage, and then on the first day he ever attended Hogwarts, and then…on Suzan who he hadn't spoken to in almost a year ever since she heard about the death eaters.

He glared at Dumbledore.

"Y-you've lost old man," Lord Voldemort growled in a higher pitched voice that didn't suit him.

He pushed with all of his might in his head and watched as Dumbledore flew back into the darkness and out of Voldemort's mind.

His eyes shot open. He looked around. All of the boys were starring at their leader who had just been screeching in his sleep.

Halloween soon arrived, Voldemort's favorite holiday.

He sat at the dinner table, enjoying the Hogwarts Halloween feast.

He looked up at the staff table and saw Professor Dumbledore looking at him.

Voldemort looked away and thought about how he had been growing better at keeping Dumbledore out of his mind. He emptied his thought every night now and had managed to keep anymore disastrously revealing dreams from accruing.

Voldemort looked over at the Ravenclaw table and saw Suzan talking and laughing with her friends.

Voldemort felt like she was the only person he might have affection for, but she had disregarded him as a prejudiced boy who hated muggles and muggle-borns and squibs all as much as each other.

In the middle of the feast, Dippet stood and raised his glass for a large school wide toast.

"To Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin!"

The Gryffindors all shouted "To Gryffindor!" as the Slytherins shouted "To Slytherin!" and the other two houses shouted their names.

Then, as they had been told to do at the end of this toast Dippet had invented, they all raised their glasses and yelled in unison

"TO THE HOGWARTS HOUSES!"

And then they drank.

Voldemort went to bed early that night and fell asleep quicker than he had expected to.

He emptied his mind but experience a different kind of dream.

He saw that he was in the girls' locker room, a bath right in front of him.

Suzan stood in front of him. She began to remove her clothes before she stood there, completely naked.

Voldemort stared as she almost glided over to him and removed his shirt.

He began to breathe slowly and steadily before she slipped down his pants.

They both stepped into the bath and slowly, their lips met.

He shook off the dream and decided to ignore the urges he had to at the very least speak with his old friend.

However, it seemed that there was to be no luck in this situation. Voldemort wasn't even capable at getting Suzan's attention these days. Every time she saw him making his way toward her, she would leave as vigorously as she could.

It seemed that Lord Voldemort didn't even have any time for women. He no longer had any disturbing dreams of Dumbledore trying to unlock his mind or any pleasant dreams of his interaction with Suzan. They had no influence on him these days and so he pushed them away from his thoughts for more important things that he never even dared think about when he was about to sleep.

Voldemort always thought of how he could never ever truly be normal. He had been special at the orphanage but had quickly discovered when he came to Hogwarts that he wasn't any more special than these other students. At least until he found out about his true heritage. He was a real Slytherin and there for was capable of better things. He was even experimenting with spells so much that the teachers were all amazed.

He had even managed to make a giant black snake appear in front of a laughing, highly entertained and impressed Professor Marythought.

Date: December 23

Lord Voldemort was once again in the girls' bathroom. He repeated the words to open the chamber of secrets, but this time he entered through the dropping slide of a tunnel.

He had found bones of many fishes that had been consumed once he was down at the bottom.

Voldemort walked through the tunnels before coming to a large circular door.

"Open for Slytherin's heir," he commanded in the snake language he had become fluent in.

A large snake moved past the retracting snakes that were around the doors as locks. Once the door swung forward, Voldemort stepped into the large atrium that was the main section of the chamber of secrets.

There were large, stone, brilliantly carved snake heads all on the sides of the walk way as Voldemort made his way into the largest area of the atrium.

A gigantic stone head carved to look like Salazar Slytherin sat with its mouth closed.

Voldemort turned his head over slightly as he thought.

Then he straightened himself up and shouted in Parstletoung

"SPEAK TO ME SLYTHERIN; GREATEST OF THE HOGWARTS FOUR!"

The mouth parted and Voldemort saw the basilisk's head begin to inch its way out but the dark lord felt no fear.

"DO NOT COME NEAR ME SERPENT! STAY IN THERE! I MUST NOT MEET YOUR GAZE! HOWEVER, YOU WILL CONTINUE TO FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS FOR YOU AS I AM THE ONE AND THE ONLY REMAINING HEIR OF SALAZAR SLYTHERIN HIMSELF!"

The giant snake stayed where it was, its head in the shadows so Voldemort wouldn't have to look into its eyes.

Voldemort smiled and shouted

"NOW RETURN IN THERE AND LET YOURSELF BACK INTO THE PLUMMING! DO NOT TRY TO KILL ANY MUDBLOODS YET! I WISH FOR EVERYONE TO BELIEVE THAT THEY ARE ONLY IN SLIGHT DANGER BUT TO LET THE TENSION BUILD. WHEN THE TIME COMES, I WILL LET YOU KILL! AND SOON WE WILL KILL ALL OF THE MUDBLOODS IN THE SCHOOL AND SLYTHERIN WILL HAVE WON! NOW GO! GO AND PETRIFY ANOTHER STUDENT OF MUGGLE BLOOD, STEALER OF WIZARDING SECRETS, GO!"

The snake retracted completely and let the mouth of Slytherin close.

"Soon you will be avenged my greatest of grandfathers," Voldemort yelled to the stone, his arms outstretched as he fell to his knees on the wet stone floor. "I promise that to you."

And he bowed to the stone sculpture of his idol.

"It's the day of Christmas Eve and THIS happens?" Marythought shouted fretfully as the teachers and the headmaster all gathered around a small first year boy named Marcus Writhington.

"Well, at least he was as lucky as Minerva to not have been killed," Dumbledore commented. "But why? Why is this happening?"  
Voldemort stood behind the wall, listing. Were they so stupid as not to realize that the legend of the chamber of secrets was true? He needed to speak that without them knowing it was him. And suddenly, an idea came to him.

The second floor corridor was deserted, perfectly safe for Voldemort to do what he was planning.

He flipped his wand out from his pocket and pointed it at the wall.

He said the spell non-verbally and watched as the words 'THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. SALAZAR SLYTHERIN RETURNS' were magically drawn in a longer lasting red ink. It would take them a long time to get rid of the writing.

He stood there, appeased at how well this was working.

"Merry Christmas Grandfather," Voldemort muttered.

He turned away and walked to small stairs that led to the Transfiguration courtyard.

"I'm guessing that YOU suspect young Mr. Riddle?" Dippet glumly asked Dumbledore late in the head's office on the January 1rst.

"I am not going to get into my suspicions," Dumbledore replied. "However, we DO now know that the chamber of secrets has been opened."

There was a knock on the door before Dippet could agree.

"Enter," he called.

The door was opened and the unusually tall and heavy third year boy who was the size of Dippet came into view.

"Ah, Mr. Hagrid," Dippet greeted.

"What can we do for you Hagrid?" asked Dumbledore.

"Well sir's, you see…me dad's been dead nearly three years now and the wizard orphanage I'm staying at….well, it's a righ' hellish place, don't ya know? I was uh…wonderin' seein' as you two 'ave always been good 'ter students, I thought that…maybe… I could stay at Hogwarts over the summer. You know, maybe get some tutoring or summit."

"Oh Hagrid, I do wish we could offer that," Dippet answered to the now disappointed half giant. "But I am afraid we do not have such a program, nor can one be invented any time soon in the state of things."  
"You mean the chamber o' secrets, righ?"

"Yes Hagrid, the chamber of secrets," Dumbledore said.

"Well, what if the monster left or somethin'?" he tried.

"I can't make any guaranties but it would make it MUCH easier yes." Dippet told.

"Uh…ok then. I'm just gonna…gonna go now Professors," Hagrid announced, backing out of the room.

"You know," Dippet told Dumbledore. "You know, I received a letter this morning from Tom Riddle about staying at Hogwarts-,"  
"No!" Dumbledore said, raising his voice on accident.

Dippet stared at him.

"I mean…it is too dangerous."

"I always knew you disliked Tom Riddle Albus…but I will be the one to decide things around here. Good evening to you then."  
Dumbledore nodded and left the room.

"TIME TO KIIIIILLLLL," the basilisk sneered while slithering in the walls of Hogwarts. "IT IS TIME TO KIIIIIILLLLLLLL."

Myrtle lay on the ground. The unattractive, unpopular, emotionally unstable girl…was dead. She lay on the floor of the girls' bathroom on the second floor as Olive Hornvey shrieked while seeing the wide dead eyes of 'Moaning Myrtle'.

Professor Dippet folded the letter with a sigh, stood up, and went to draw his curtains, as if forgetting he could have just flicked his wand.

As Dippet took his seat once again, thinking about how the poor Ravenclaw girl had been killed by the monster, there was a knock on the office door.

"Enter," Dippet said, feebly.

Voldemort entered the office.

"Ah, Riddle," said Dippet.

"You wanted to see me, Professor Dippet?" asked Voldemort, feeling nervous as if Dippet now agreed with Dumbledore's suspicions.

"Sit down," Dippet told.

"Oh," Voldemort said, taking a seat on the other side of the desk in front of Dippet.

"My dear boy," said Dippet kindly. "I cannot possibly let you stay at the school over the summer. Surely you want to go home for the holidays?"  
"No. I'd much rather stay at Hogwarts than go back to that- to that-,"

"You live in a muggle orphanage during the holidays, I believe?" Dippet inquired.

"Yes sir."

"You are Muggle-born?"  
Voldemort tried not to show anger. He was in Slytherin, who had ever heard of a mudblood in Slytherin?  
"Half-blood, sir," he said as calmly as he could. "Muggle father, witch mother."  
"And are both your parents-,"

"My mother died just after I was born, sir. They told me at the orphanage she lived long enough to name me- Tom after my father, Marvolo after my grandfather."  
Dippet clucked his tongue in a sympathetic fashion.

"The thing is, Tom; special arrangements might have been made for you, but in these current circumstances…"

Oh no, Voldemort thought. He had caused the possible downfall of his own school. He had only wished for the mudbloods to leave!  
"You mean all these attacks, sir?" he questioned.

Dippet answered

"Precisely. My dear boy, you must see how foolish it would be of me to allow you to remain at the castle when term ends. Particularly in light of the recent tragedy…the death of that poor little girl…You will be safer by far at your orphanage. As a matter of fact, the Ministry of Magic is even now talking of closing the school. We are no nearer locating the-er- source of all this unpleasantness…,"

What had he done? Because of his lust for his family line, he might have to be shoved back into the muggle world!

Then…an idea came to him. His eyes grew wide and he alleged

"Sir- if the person was caught- if it all stopped-,"

"What do you mean?" Dippet interrupted. "Riddle, do you mean you know something about these attacks?"

"No, sir," Voldemort assured quickly.

Dippet sat there with his mouth open and then he sighed disappointedly and told Voldemort

"You may go, Tom….,"

He was stopped on his way to the dungeons when he reached the entrance hall. Professor Dumbledore came around a corner and asked

"What are you doing, wondering around this late, Tom?"

"I had come to see the headmaster, sir," Voldemort reacted.

"Well, hurry off to bed. Best not to roam the corridors these days. Not since…,"

He heavily sighed and turned to walk away.

Look who's talking, that isn't even the way to your office, Voldemort said in his head.

He continued to walk on his way to the dungeons before he arrived to one of the smaller room areas. He stood there, waiting for the oaf to come with one of his 'pets' so that Voldemort could blame the death on whatever the kid had with him THIS time.

He heard footsteps and moved back into the darkness as if he was Hades.

Finally, the voice spoke.

"C'mon….gotta get yeh outta here…C'mon now…in the box…,"

Voldemort leapt out from the obscurity and drew his wand with his left hand.

"Evening, Rubeus," he said sharply, making the half giant jump with fright.

"What yer doin' down here, Tom?"  
Voldemort moved in, aiming his wand at Hagrid's chest.

"It's all over. I'm going to have to turn you in, Rubeus. They're talking about closing Hogwarts if the attacks don't stop."  
"What d'yeh-," Hagrid began before Voldemort continued

"I don't think you meant to kill anyone, but monsters don't make good pets. I suppose you just let it out for exercise and-,"

"It never killed no one!" he wailed.

"Come on, Rubeus. The dead girl's parents will be here tomorrow. The least Hogwarts can do is make sure that the thing that killed their daughter is slaughtered…,"  
"It wasn't him!" Hagrid roared in an echoing voice. "He wouldn't! He never!"

"Stand aside," Voldemort commanded.

He raised the wand as Hagrid yelled.

"CEASTAM-,"

The rest of the spell was drowned out by Hagrid's yells as the jet of blue light hit the crate behind Hagrid, letting out a large, hairy, black spider that was surly an acromantula.

As it scurried away, Voldemort tried to hit it with another spell but was punched in the head by the large third year who continued to scream

"NOOOOOOO!"

Voldemort looked infuriated before his wand was inches away from Hagrid's nose.

"It's too late now Hagrid," Voldemort told him. "You'll be expelled."

Rubeus Hagrid- Expelled from Hogwarts for suspected foul play on muggle borns. Allowed to remain as new game-keeper so that Apollyon Pringle may have less work as a caretaker. Suggestion by Albus Dumbledore.

Even if the oaf was only a gamekeeper, Voldemort knew that he had won. He ordered the basilisk to rest itself. He suddenly had an idea so that he may one day finish his work with the chamber of secrets.

Voldemort sat in his secret study room and opened a slightly thick and very dark colored diary.

On the front he wrote 'TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE'. He then wrote in all of the events that had passed these past five years in the journal entries before there were only a few pages left.

Then, he took a very deep breath.

He pointed his wand at the book and began to mutter the immensely long incantation he had studied in the restricted section. It had been easy to ask Slughorn to hand over a permission form.

His body began to shake and tingle as small yellow lights moved down from his upper body, to his arm, to his wand, and finally into the first diary page.

The pages suddenly began to flip faster than any human could have flipped them and, as they did, the writing vanished from clear view completely.

Then…it all stopped.

Voldemort looked at the diary. It was now a container. It was a container of a memory of him. The memory would wait and one day it would unleash the power of Slytherin…no…of Slytherin and his heir, Lord Voldemort on the entire school.

"I have won," he whispered to himself.


	7. Chapter 7

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

CHAPTER SEVEN

PART 6- THE GAUNT RING

Voldemort lay in his bed at the orphanage most of the time during that summer. He was thinking, thinking, and thinking. If he was to gain more honor from his young comrades, he was going to have to seek revenge on the one who had abandoned him all those years ago.

Where was Tom Riddle senior? Which house? The only time Voldemort was out of bed was when he was heading to the city library so that he could search for where Little Hangleton was.

At last, he found it. Not only did he know how to get there, but he also knew what his plan was to murder the family who lived in the large house at the top of the hill.

Mrs. Cole's eyes where dazed as Voldemort pointed his wand at her. Confounding her would always be easiest, should he ever require her services again.

"You will give me the keys and allow me to use your car," he told the woman, who slowly nodded and handed over her car keys to the Desoto vehicle.

He drove happily through the streets of London, everyone at the orphanage convinced that he wouldn't be back for a long time as he was vacation.

He looked down at his map and smiled. It wouldn't be long now before he was ready to slaughter the man who had made his life a living hell.

Voldemort walked through the dark evening, searching for the house. At last, he came to see the house of Gaunt, his ancestors.

He came to the small shack and smiled as he saw a snake nailed to a door. Parstletoung would be the perfect way to control the man inside, should he try and defend himself.

Voldemort raised his right hand and knocked on the door once.

The door creaked open at his touch and he entered to see a short man, with white hair that was ragged and lengthy, an old knife in one hand, and a battered wand in the other.

This was Slytherin's heir? Voldemort knew that this man would never have been as loyal to his bloodline as he was. He did not have long to ponder over this as the raggedy man yelled

"YOU! YOU!"

Drunkenly, he ran at Voldemort, his weapons raised, before Voldemort said in Parstletoung

"Stop!"

He did.

"You speak it?" he asked in the language.

"Yes, I speak it," Voldemort answered.

He wondered if the father, Marvolo, would perhaps be less disappointing. Or, was Dumbledore correct on what he had said.

"Where is Marvolo?" he continued in Parstletoung.

"Dead," Morfin told. "Died years ago, didn't he?"  
"Who are you then?"

"I'm Morfin, ain't I?"

"Marvolo's son?" he asked.

"'Course I am, then…,"  
He pushed his hair out of his eyes and looked closely at Voldemort.

Voldemort saw that the Gaunt ring was on his finger.

"I thought you was that Muggle. You look mighty like that Muggle."  
"What Muggle?" inquired Voldemort.

"That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that muggle what lives in the big house over there a ways."

Unexpectedly, he spat on the floor.

"You look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, in 'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it….,"

He swayed slightly from all of the alcohol and Voldemort noted that this man was drunk and would be easy to overpower.

"He come back, see."  
"Riddle came back?" Voldemort questioned, moving closer.

"Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth! Robbed us, mind, before she ran off! Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?"  
Voldemort did not answer.

Morfin began to yell again.

"Dishonored us, she did, that little SLUT! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit….It's over….,"

Voldemort smiled as he realized he had everything he needed now.

He moved in and raised his wand with his left hand.

"It is for you," Voldemort said in English.

Morfin looked at the wand.

"Stupify!" Voldemort cast.

The jet of orange light lit up the whole shack and slammed straight into the chest of Morfin.

Lord Voldemort's dimwitted uncle crashed down onto the floor and lay there, completely unconscious.  
Voldemort moved in and picked up Morfin's wand, putting his own away.

"Now, we will be able to say that YOU did it, once I have the memory," Voldemort smiled.

He rose and left his uncle lying there.  
He shut the door behind him and walked briskly towards the direction of Little Hangleton.

The large clock down at the church rang 1:00 in the morning. It was still pitch black outside.

Voldemort walked all the way up to the house and to the door. He saw when he looked up, that there was a light on in the house, in one room.

He turned the knob, but found that it was locked.

Annoyed, he drew Morfin's wand and unlocked the door with magic.

He walked inside and listened to the sound of three people talking upstairs.

Voldemort stalked silently up the stairs before he came to see that the lit room had its door open by a jar.

Inside, he could see two elderly people and one younger man, still older than Voldemort, with his back turned to the door.

Voldemort lifted his foot in the air, and kicked the door open loudly.

The younger man jumped and turned as the elderly couple began to scream with fear.

Voldemort looked in the face of the man who had jet black hair, was skinny, and was tall….just like his son.

"Hello father," Voldemort sneered.

"No…," Riddle said, shaking his head. "No, I thought you were dead! Dead with your witch of a mother!"  
"You would abandon her just because she was more powerful than you?" Voldemort yelled, his voice becoming higher and colder. "You should not have done that! Now your son, Tom Riddle junior, or as I am now called…Voldemort, has returned to avenge my mother!"

He raised his wand as the elders' wept.

"I thought you said that she never had a child!" wailed the woman. "I never knew I had a grandson!"  
She hugged her husband and began to sob as the older man came up closer to Voldemort.

"Tom," he said, holding out his arms. "If we had known what our son had done, we would have helped find you and taken you in. You are such a handsome boy. I don't care if you are a wizard. I only wish to help you. Please, spare us. Where do you live?"  
Voldemort's bottom lip began to tremble.

"I live in an orphanage with….your kind. I've been abused, but I also attend a wizarding boarding school called Hogwarts."  
"Tom," the old man said. "You don't have to do this."  
Voldemort's wand hand began to shake.

"I have to. It's the only way."

"Our son did wrong, I know that. But please, all you need…is love."

Voldemort slowly began to put the wand down and held it less tightly. He slipped Morfin's wand back into his pocket and fell into his grandfather's arms. He began to sob.

His grandfather began to shush him as he held the boy tightly.

"It's okay my boy, it's alright. Don't worry."

He patted Vold…Tom's hair and continued to speak words of comfort to him.

Tom Riddle senior looked down at his son. He looked afraid.

"I wanted you dead, not in an orphanage!" he shouted.

Voldemort looked back up at him, tears flowing down his cheeks.

"Why?" Voldemort's grandfather asked. "Why, my son? You would want this boy dead for something he could not control?"  
"THEIR kind….are nothing but savages!"

"We're the savages?" Voldemort asked, rising.

Riddle stood back.

"What about the war that just ended, hm? The Second World War! Millions dead! Adolf Hitler killed Jewish muggles because of their beliefs! I feel that things got quite out of hand. He put them in gas chambers! He lit them on fire when they were alive and he murdered so many people! And you call US the savages? If that's how you feel….then it's time I taught you the most important lesson YOU'LL ever have!"

He drew Morfin's wand as his grandfather yelled

"No boy, NO!"

He stuck the wand at Riddle's large gut and shouted

"AVADA KADAVRA!"  
There was a blinding flash of green light as Riddle was blasted back into the fire place. He fell out onto the floor, completely dead.

Voldemort looked back at his grandparents, his grandmother sobbing….his grandfather looking terrified at the sight of his son's dead body.

"If you can forgive me for that," Voldemort pleaded. "-then we can all live with each other. He's the only person I wanted dead, and I know how to cover it up. I'll do it by blaming it on the wizard who lives near here who attacked my father back many years ago-,"

"No," his grandfather said, shaking his head. "No Tom. If you are capable of a murder, even on someone as sick as my son probably was, then I cannot help you."  
More tears came out of Voldemort's eyes.

"Grandfather….please. Please."

"No," his grandfather told. "You are NOT my grandson."

Voldemort held in the sobs.  
"Wrong choice," he growled.

He raised Morfin's wand.

The couple held each other as Voldemort cursed

"AVADA KADAVRA!"

The lightning bolt of green shot across the room and hit the poor couple, sending them flying into the wall and onto a heap on the floor.

Voldemort dropped the wand and ran to his grandfather's lifeless form.

He hugged the man and screamed

"NOOOOOO!"  
He put his head down and began to bawl.

He made sure not to allow his tears to fall onto the man's face as he stood, still crying.

"I could have had a parent," he muttered. "Why did I kill Riddle? This man would have backed me up! He would have cared for me! WHY?"

He kicked the body of Tom Riddle and ran out of the house, after grabbing Morfin's wand.


	8. Chapter 8

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. THE STORY

CHAPTER 8

It had worked perfectly after that. Voldemort looked at the Daily Prophet to see that Morfin Gaunt had been sentenced to life in Azkaban for the murder of three muggles. He had confessed to the murders and had seemed proud. However, his final words before he went into silence where about loosing his father's ring.

The Gaunt ring was on Voldemort's finger, after the ring had been washed. It was a beautiful small object and it proved that Morfin was weaker than anyone gave him credit for. Voldemort had created a fake memory and put it in Morfin's brain so that he could use it to mask over the real memory of what had transpired that night.

And so, Voldemort had murdered his treacherous muggle father and wasn't even a suspect. The muggle police had arrested a man called "Frank" who had fought in the First World War.

He had been the one who was the gardener for the Riddles and Voldemort laughed as he read how the muggle police couldn't figure out how the Riddles had come to die. It became a cold case.

Two months later.

Sixth year finally arrived and Voldemort relaxed as he sat with the death eaters on the Hogwarts express as it began to pull out of the station.

After a while, he began to think to himself about how much he had accomplished and he knew that soon, he would be the most powerful wizard of all time.

In the later months of the year, Voldemort discovered that the pestilential Transfiguration professor, Albus Dumbledore was keeping an annoyingly close watch on him ever since the Chamber of Secrets was opened.

Voldemort saw that Dumbledore's suggestion had carried out as that brainless oaf, Hagrid, was seen working as the gamekeeper, living in a small and sad looking hut down by the forbidden forest.

Of course, Dumbledore didn't get another chance to accuse Voldemort of anything else as he kept his nose clean and made sure to stay out of Dumbledore's way. Voldemort knew that the Professor wanted to catch him at something and prove that the boy everyone idolized was really a dark wizard in the making. This brought Voldemort back to applying Occlumenssy against the man. He needed his thoughts kept private and…there was one thought that Voldemort kept on coming back to. His mother had been so weak as to die, but he now knew that Nicholas Flamel was the only wizard who had property of the Philosopher's stone and it would be improbable that it would be easy to steal. Voldemort searched and searched for the secret to immortality. He spent hours upon hours in either his study or the library, looking through all of the Alchemyst books he could lay his hands on. However, there was only one thing that he found that was close enough.

He looked at it and saw the title 'Horcruxes'.

His eyebrows were raised, and he began to read.

HORCRUXES

A Horcrux is one of the most terrible bits of magic that was ever created. A horcrux is an object that conceals one's soul. If the horcrux is kept safe, then if that person who created it is stabbed or is in an accident, they would experience great pain but would live.

The chapter went on to explain how one would be able to destroy a horcrux but there was no mention on how to make one.

Voldemort angrily tossed the book back onto the table and walked out of the library.

A few weeks later, in Potions class, Voldemort raised his hand for Professor Slughorn to come over.

"Ah, Tom! What is it that you need, me boy?" he boomed cheerfully.

"Oh, I was just wondering sir….so many of my friends need help in Potions and I thought that seeing as you and I have a good knack for Potion making-,"

"I'M the one with the knack. YOU'RE the one who is absolutely GENIUS at it. Anyway, what where you saying?"  
"I thought that you and I could help tutor them in your office later this evening?"

"That sounds like a brilliant idea Tom!" Slughorn agreed. "Anyway, come by my office after dinner then and we'll all have a good chat!"

He walked away merrily and Voldemort smiled maliciously.

As the group sitting in Slughorn's office continued to discuss Potion making Voldemort brought up something he had overheard a few days earlier.

"Sir?" he said. "Is it true that Professor Marythought is retiring?"

"Tom, Tom. If I knew I couldn't tell you. I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff you are. With the uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter- thank you for the pineapple by the way. You are quite right, it is my favorite."

Slughorn's small golden clock chimed eleven o'clock and the teacher turned.

"Good gracious, is it that time already? You'd better get going, boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay by tomorrow or it's detention. Same goes for you Avery."

Voldemort gestured for his death eaters to leave and, after they had all gone, he tapped the magic hour glass of Slughorn's to cause the Professor to look around.

"Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect…,"

"Sir," Voldemort began. "I wanted to ask you about something."

"Ask away, then, m'boy, as away….," Slughorn replied.

"Sir, I wondered what you know about…about Horcruxes?"

Slughorn starred at him and blinked a couple of times.

"Project for Defense against the Dark Arts, is it?"  
"Not exactly sir," Voldemort admitted. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."  
"No…well…," Slughorn stammered slowly. "You'd be hard pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on horcruxes, Tom, that's very dark stuff, very dark stuff indeed."

"But you obviously know all about them, sir?" Voldemort inquired bravely. "I mean, a wizard like you-sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously- I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could-so I just thought I'd ask-,"

"Well," Slughorn started. "-well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term. A horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."

"I don't quite understand how that works, though, sir," Voldemort confessed.

"Well, you split your soul, you see," Slughorn explained carefully. "-and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form…,"

Slughorn's face crumpled and he shivered at the thought.

"…few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable."  
Voldemort wondered if death could be preferable to anything. After all, what was worse than death?

"How do you split your soul?" he asked hungrily.

"Well," Slughorn said in an uncomfortable tone. "-you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."

"But how do you do it?" Voldemort asked.

"By an act of evil- the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: He would encase the torn portion-,"

"Encase?" Voldemort repeated. "But how-,"

"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know! Do I look as though I have tried it- do I look like a killer?"  
"No, sir, of course not," Voldemort covered up quickly. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean to offend…,"

"Not at all, not at all, not offended," Slughorn assured, gruffly. "It's natural to feel some curiosity about these things….Wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic...,"

"Yes sir. What I don't understand, though- just out of curiosity- I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven-,"

"Merlin's beard, Tom!" yelped Slughorn. "Seven? Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case…bad enough to divide the soul…but to rip it into seven pieces…,"

Slughorn gazed at Voldemort as though worried that Dumbledore's fears had just been realized. Voldemort tried to cover it all up by looking innocent, but for once…it didn't seem to be working.

"Of course," Slughorn muttered. "-this is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic…,"

"Yes, sir, of course," Voldemort answered slyly.

PART SEVEN- THE HORCRUXES

Slughorn kept a good distance from Voldemort the rest of the few weeks before Christmas break. He seemed worried that Voldemort was going to question him on more dark magic, as if the sixteen year old had become….obsessed with the idea of dark wizardry.

Voldemort also decided this was another secret to be kept from the death eaters, no matter how loyal they were.

But, as the Christmas decorations could now be spotted, hanging on the walls of Hogwarts, everyone in the school seemed to relax and forget any darkness that might be brewing.

Slughorn seemed to be back to his old self as he drank pint after pint of elf made wine and drunkenly shouted

"Happy Christmas! HO, HO, HO!"

There was the 'Ho, ho, ho' everyone had expected to come out of Slughorn's mouth since they first met him.

Voldemort soon came to thinking about how much he needed a safe place to hide a horcrux, should he ever create one.

Then, it came to him….the cave.

He thought about that time he had discovered it, and scarred the two children for life with it.

There had to be more to the cave, another part, somewhere to keep the horcrux safe. He also thought about what the object should be. Voldemort had already murdered three times and that was enough to make three horcruxes.

He wanted them to be something with meaning. That's when the idea came to him.

He glanced down at his finger, the Gaunt ring still gleaming on it.


	9. Chapter 9

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. THE STORY

CHAPTER 9

(Please review)

Year seven had finally arrived. After this year, the seventeen year old Voldemort would leave the beloved castle. As hard as it would be to say goodbye…he would be on to bigger and greater things. In the month of November, Slughorn had mentioned that he knew a couple of people in the Ministry of Magic, who could all conduct interviews. Several other teachers offered the same thing but, to everyone's surprise (especially Slughorn's and Dippet's) Voldemort turned them all down.

As he sat in the tub in the prefect's bathroom, he pondered over everything that had happened to him lately.

During the summer, he had been able to concentrate on the evil of what he had done and managed to rip his soul in two. He had placed part of that soul in the ring but had hidden it, not in the cave, but in the old house of Gaunt.

He figured that the protective enchantments were strong enough to hold and would not allow anyone unwanted to enter the house.

After that, he had received a letter telling him that he had been made head boy.

He had been excited and had also been told that the head boy and girl shared quarters with each other with two separate bedrooms in each.

Voldemort had arrived at the small living area on the sixth floor, to find that the head girl was none other than Suzan.

They hadn't spoken in years and the effect had come off quite awkward.

After a few arguments in which Suzan defended the muggles and Voldemort made snide comments about how they were savages, he now found himself staying silent every time he walked past her.

Now, it was December once again, and Voldemort was sitting, naked, in the large, pool like bathtub of the special bathroom used by prefects, quidditch team captains, and the head students.

He also thought about the new Defense against the dark arts teacher, Professor Lean Asbury.

Professor Asbury seemed less of an experienced teacher than Marythought had. Asbury was in her late twenties, had long, beautiful black hair, and wonderful green eyes. Her focus on Defensive magic was interesting but sometimes limited. There was one day when she got into a long discussion with the teenage girls about her boyfriend, Daniel Potter.

"Apparently, my friend says that he might propose soon!" she squealed joyfully as the girl began to giggle with excitement.

Christmas time soon arrived and, as always, Voldemort would be staying over the holidays.

Most of the death eaters were heading home, however, Avery remained.

"I'm not exactly in the mood for my parents," he grimaced at dinner one evening before term ended. "They've gotten rather annoyed with my grades, so I feel it's in the best interest of my sanity if I were to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas for the first time in six years."

…

On Christmas morning, Voldemort awoke to find presents on his bed. He read the cards and found that most of them happened to be from his death eaters at home. He reached for the largest present, curious.

He read the card.

MERRY CHRISTMAST, ARSE.

Arse? Who would call HIM an arse? Then he saw the name at the bottom of the card.

"Suzan," he read.

He ripped off the wrapping paper and opened the box.

Inside was a beautiful sculpted serpent, painted dark green with emeralds for eyes.

"I see that you didn't get ME anything," said an unsurprised voice from the doorway.

Startled, Voldemort looked over to see Suzan standing there, still in her night clothes.

He hurriedly tried to use the sheets to conceal the fact that he wasn't wearing a shirt.

"I'm sorry," he told. "I'm not the most Christmassy person in the Wizarding world.

"I know that," she retorted. "And quit with that stupid sheet thing, I can see that you aren't wearing anything.

"I'm wearing pants!" he mentioned, blushing.

"Good, but there's nothing wrong with the fact that you're shirtless," she assured.

Then….she smiled. It was the first time Voldemort had seen her smile since he met her, back when he still called himself Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"You know," she began. "Even if you ARE a prejudice bastard who only cares about himself…I still miss being friends with you. Do you remember that time when we were little, and you made me laugh. I miss times like that."  
She sat on his bed as he began to put the sheet down, trying to feel more comfortable with the fact that he was half naked in front of a very attractive female.

She leaned in closer to him.

"I miss….YOU Tom," she whispered.

She put her hands on his bare chest and forced him to slowly lean back and lie back down.

She bent her head down and planted a soft kiss on his lips. He returned it.

Soon, they were both kissing and Voldemort felt himself grow warm. Suddenly, he remembered how he had vowed to himself that he would never let his hormones get the better of him, and started to carefully push Suzan away.

"No," he said to her. "No. I can't. I'm sorry Suzan, but I have no real feelings for you. I'm sorry, but you have to leave."  
She frowned and then sat up.

"Merry Christmas then Tom," she said once more.

Then, she left the room, leaving Voldemort to lie back down and try and calm himself after the event of Suzan and him kissing.

The months soon grew warmer and Voldemort found himself searching once again through books. On top of trying to discover the location of Slytherin's locket, he was trying to find another valuable item that he could pour his soul into. He had enough power to make two more horcruxes and then, he'd have to kill again. He would only murder someone who was worthless. After all, who could have more worth to the Wizarding World than Lord Voldemort? It was a worthy, honorable cause.  
His eyes found a chapter in "History of Magic" that read 'THE DIADEM OF RAVENCLAW'.

Interested, Voldemort began to read.

THE DIADEM OF RAVENCLAW

Back in the earlier years of Hogwarts, before Ravenclaw was murdered by Salazar Slytherin, the fair lady kept a diadem that she wore on her head almost every day of her life. However, her angry and confused child stole the famous crown from her mother and ran off to find her life elsewhere. After that, the diadem has been lost and searched for by many wizarding archeologists and historians. Unfortunately, the diadem still has not been found.

Voldemort finished reading the small section of the book before he thought to himself about how the grey lady Ghost who roamed the halls of Hogwarts might have an idea on where the diadem could have been taken as she had definitely been alive longer than anyone else at Hogwarts.

Voldemort smiled, gathered his things, and left the library.

Voldemort pushed through the rest of the year with his mind set on receiving the highest grade in all of his classes. He was determined to graduate top of everything and so, was spending a good deal of time at the study table in the Slytherin common room.

One morning, he entered History of Magic class to find a shocking display.

The aged Professor Bins was sitting at his desk, preparing to read the historic events to the class.

As the rest of the students entered, they all began to gasp as they saw that Professor Bins….was transparent and silver.

"Um…Professor?" Voldemort asked cautiously.

"Um…yes Mr.….uh….Middle?" Bins answered.

"Are you feeling any different sir?" Voldemort continued.

Bins thought for a moment and then said

"No, uh-uh," while shaking his head.

It was soon known throughout the castle that Professor Bins was dead, but still teaching. The only comment the ghostly teacher had as he watched them carry his body away was

"There's something odd about today."

June finally arrived and the days until graduation day were fast approaching.

Voldemort and Suzan began talking again, although their conversations felt weak and lifeless without any point at all.

One day, Voldemort was walking through the castle, looking for the grey lady.

At last, he found her down in one of the corridors near the dungeons.

"Pardon me," he said, grabbing her attention.

The grey lady turned her head and saw him, standing there.

She looked impressed at his handsome fetchers and asked

"To what do I owe this pleasure, young student?"

"The diadem of Ravenclaw," he answered back.

Annoyed, she began to turn away.

"No, wait!" he called to her.

"I do not wish to be bothered with irksome questions about that damned crown," she told him.

"I do wish to know about it but," he began. "-I promise never to bother you about it again. But I am surprised that the DIADEM is what people bother you about. I would have thought that the fact of your beauty and that you are most probably very wise would have gotten their attention."

If not for her transparency, the grey lady would have blushed.

"Your words are flattering sir," she admitted. "What is your name?"  
"Tom," Voldemort said. "My name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."

She bowed.

"I am pleased to meet such a gentleman, master Riddle. What do you want to know about the diadem?"  
"Where is it now? I can tell you that I do not need extra credit, being a top student. My needs for the diadem are…higher and more important."

He felt his charm work as the grey lady said

"I am the daughter of Ravenclaw. I was the one who took the diadem from her and hid it in a far away country before I was murdered there by a man who loved me, the bloody baron. He killed himself after he found that he had murdered me."

Voldemort raised his eyebrow. This lady was the heir of Ravenclaw? This would truly make the job easier.

"What country is the diadem in now?" he asked.

He thought about the words he always used to use before he discovered charm. 'Tell the truth!' Of course he did not say these words now as he knew it was far more effective to be charming.

"In the forest of Albania," she replied. "Where I left it all those centuries ago."

Voldemort's lip curled into a smile.

"Thank you, milady," he said, bowing to her.

She grinned as he left the corridor, the beast within him roaring triumphantly.

On the day when everyone would be leaving, Voldemort walked with the death eaters and explained that he would contact them when he was ready.

"It will be a while," he told them. "But one day, we will all gather again and create a world without muggle scum."

The all agreed and continued walking as Voldemort stayed behind to look at the large, gorgeous castle that he would always call home.

The sun shone dazzlingly above the Astronomy tower and the birds flew overhead. Voldemort smiled one last time and muttered

"Goodbye."

Then, he turned and walked towards the gates.


	10. Chapter 10

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

CHAPTER 10

"I absolutely can't believe it Albus!" Slughorn said to Albus Dumbledore. "Having taught him all those years, I never that he'd sink THIS low!"  
"Perhaps he only needs a little while to work in a smaller realm Horace," Dumbledore explained. "I'm sure that soon you'll see your favorite student becoming the youngest Minister of Magic."

"Right, right," Slughorn alleged. "But still, he's working at Borgin and Burkes!"

Indeed, Tom Riddle (or Voldemort as he should still be referred to as) was working in the small shop in Knockturn alley, with only two other people there…and that was his two elderly bosses, Mr. Borgin and Mr. Burke.

"I grow sick and tired of that old hoarder keeping that item," Borgin complained as Voldemort put up the 'Closed' sign.

"Perhaps she truly just does not wish to let go of any of her collectables," Voldemort decided. "After all, as you said, she is an items hoarder."

"Ah," Borgin said, grinning. "But she knows YOU very well young Tom. She has a liking for you. You've managed to get OTHER people to hand over precious heirlooms, so how about you try your…uh…charm on her?"

Voldemort smirked.

"Anything for you Mr. Borgin," he agreed.

Borgin smiled again and walked back into his miniature office.

…

Voldemort was irked that he was once again working an errand for those useless old men. If only Dippet had given him the teaching job for DADA as Merrythought's successor, Professor Asbury, had left so that she could marry her love, Daniel Potter. Professor Dippet had told Voldemort that, as much as he wanted him for the job, he felt that he was too young and that he could try again as he grew older.

And so, here he was, going to the house of a witch who was a collector. He knew that he had a good charm, but Voldemort somehow doubted that he would be able to make her give him the goblin made metal.

Voldemort walked to the small front door and rang the tinkling doorbell.

The door was opened by the small house elf, Hokey, and Voldemort entered Hepzibah Smith's household, a house of many boxes that were sitting everywhere.

Voldemort smiled as he approached her and kissed her hand, bowing low.

Hepzibah giggled and looked even more joyful as he handed her the large gift he had brought.

"I brought you flowers," he told.

"You naughty boy, you shouldn't have!" the old hoarder squealed happily. "You do spoil this old lady, Tom….Sit down, sit down…. Where's Hokey? Ah…,"

The tiny, little house elf came and handed the elderly, plumb lady a small plate of cakes.

"Help yourself, Tom," said Hepzibah. "I know how you love my cakes. Now, how are you? You look pale. They overwork you at that shop, I've said it a hundred times….,"

She smiled again and then asked

"Well, what's your excuse for visiting this time?"

"Mr. Burke," he started, speaking of his other boss who had instructed Borgin to send Voldemort out. "-would like to make an improved offer for goblin-made armor. Five hundred Galleons, he feels it is more than fair-,"

"Now, now, not so fast, or I'll think you're only here for my trinkets!"

"I am ordered here because of them. I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr. Burke wishes me to inquire-,"

"Oh, Mr. Burke, phooey!" she said, waving her hand. "I've got something to show you that I've never shown Mr. Burke! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Will you promise you won't tell Mr. Burke I've got it? He'd never let me rest if he knew I'd shown it to you, and I'm not selling, not to Burke, not to anyone! But you, Tom, you'll appreciate it for its history, not how many Galleons you can get for it."

"I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me," he said quietly and Hepzibah giggled, girlishly.

"I had Hokey bring it out for me….Hokey, where are you? I want to show Mr. Riddle our finest treasure….In fact, bring both while you're at it….,"

"Here, madam," the elf squeaked, handing Hepzibah the two boxes.

"Now," said Hepzibah cheerfully, taking the boxes from her elf. "I think you'd like this, Tom…Oh, if my family knew I was showing you…. They can't wait to get their hands on this!"

She opened the lid and Voldemort leaned in as she pulled out a small golden cup with two wrought handles.

"I wonder whether you know what it is, Tom? Pick it up, have a good look!"

He did so and looked closely at the beautiful piece.

Then, he saw something carved in on the front…a symbol.

"A badger," he murmured, examining the cup's engraving. "Then this was…?"

"Helga Hufflepuff's cup," Hepzibah finished, nodding her head. "-as you very well know, you cleaver boy!"

She leaned forward and pinched his cheek.

"Didn't I tell you I was distantly descended? This has been handed down in the family for years and years. Lovely isn't it?"

She continued to speak fondly of the cup as Voldemort, pretending to listen, thought about how HE was the heir of Slytherin, how Hepzibah was the heir of Hufflepuff, and how the grey lady was the undead heir of Ravenclaw. He wondered whether or not he would ever encounter the heir of Gryffindor.

She took back the cup and placed it carefully back in the box.

"Now then," she began. "-where's Hokey? Oh yes, there you are- take that away now, Hokey."

The house elf obeyed.

"I think you'll like this even more, Tom. Lean in a little, dear boy, so you can see…. Of course, Burke knows I've got this one, I bought it from him, and I daresay he'd love to get it back when I'm gone….,"

She slowly opened the decorated box and revealed the perfect item to grab Voldemort's attention. It was a gleaming, golden locket with a matching chain that Hepzibah pulled out with.

She allowed him to take it in his hands and hold it up to the light where he could see that there was a snake incrusted.

"Slytherin's mark," he said, quite quietly.

"That's right!" she agreed, delighted. "I had to pay an arm and a leg for it, but I couldn't let it pass, not a real treasure like that, had to have it for my collection. Burke bought it, apparently, from a ragged-looking woman who seemed to have stolen it, but had no idea of the value-,"

Voldemort became alert. Morfin had said that Voldemort's mother, a ragged looking lady, had stolen the locket of Slytherin from them. Now he knew why she hadn't passed it down to him. She had sold it to Burke.

"-I daresay Burke paid her a pittance but there you are…. Pretty, isn't it? And again, all kinds of powers attributed to it, though I just keep it nice and safe….,"

She reached out to take it back. Voldemort wondered if he should hand it back at all, but in the end, just let it go.

"So there you are, Tom, dear, and I hope you enjoyed that!"  
Voldemort's eyes suddenly, for the smallest second, flashed red.

Hepzibah's smile faltered for the first time.

"Are you alright, dear?" she inquired.

"Oh yes," Voldemort replied in a whisper. "Yes, I'm very well….,"

"I thought-but a trick of the light, I suppose. Here, Hokey, take these away and lock them up again…. The usual enchantments…,"

As Hokey turned to leave, Voldemort stood and began to walk towards the door.

"Wait, Tom," the disappointed lady called. "Um…what about the Goblin made metal?"

"It is quite alright," he told. "I shall inform Mr. Burke that you do not wish to give away the metal. Goodbye, milady."

….

The door hardly creaked as Voldemort stepped back inside Hepzibah's household, late into the night, a day after his last visit.

Hepzibah was snoozing in her chair behind the desk and there was a small light on in the kitchen.

Voldemort made his way through the clutter of old items the hoarder wouldn't let go of and finally, reached the kitchen.

The house elf sat there, her back to Voldemort. He walked closer to her before….

He grabbed the elf and put his hand on her mouth. He leaned in and whispered

"Hello there Hokey pokey."

The house elf shook with fear as he took out his wand and cast a silencing charm before he quietly stunned her.

He then took a look at the cup of tea Hokey was making for Hepzibah.

He removed a small container of what looked like sugar and emptied part of the contents into the cup.

He then removed a false memory of the elf accidently putting the poison in the cup, thinking it was sugar, from his bottle into the elf's temple.

Voldemort turned and walked to the large safe with the protective enchantments placed upon it.

Muttering to himself, he managed to break all of the spells and smiled as the small safe door swung open.

He gazed at the boxes before removing the lids and taking out the goblet and the locket.

"Excellent," he said.

He looked back at the sleeping woman.

"Enjoy your tea miss," he whispered.

Then, he turned to leave one final time.


	11. Chapter 11

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE, THE STORY

CHAPTER 11

He left the letter on the front desk in Borgin and Burkes as he prepared to leave. It was dawn and soon Hepzibah would be preparing to drink her morning tea. She would be dead before she even realized about the loss of her two most valuable items.

The house elf, having the fake memory within her, would be convicted for accidently killing her mistress and Voldemort would be free, free from the old shop. He would travel out of the country, he would search for the diadem of Ravenclaw….and then, he would create his next three horcruxes. He smiled at the thought as he walked through the early morning empty streets of Knockturn ally. He came to the dead end at the end of the road and smiled.

"This is my chance," he whispered to himself.

He took out his wand with his left hand…and disaperated into thin air.

….

Years later, Tom Marvolo Riddle returned to the Wizarding World. Assuming the name of Lord Voldemort, he gathered up his old death eaters and began a campaign for the disposal of muggle borns from the Wizarding community.

His speeches, as well put together as they were, had only fans who already hated muggles. He soon found that he'd find it difficult to gain the confidence of the Ministry or the community, and thought that action must be what he would use. However, today, he was trying to apply for a different type of job.

The defensive magic teacher was once again an open spot at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

As he entered the gates, he breathed in the air of the old school he had attended for seven years of his life.

"I'm back," he said.

..

He walked all the way up to the office in which he expected to find the new headmaster, someone he wasn't surprised had gotten the job.

After going up the moving, spiraling stairs, he knocked on the office door.

"Enter," came the voice of an elderly gentleman who Voldemort recognized at once.

He entered the office, noticing that the only difference was that there were many large contraptions that were all moving, sitting on three tables.

He looked at the old man sitting behind the desk, his beard gone white, reaching down to his waist.

Voldemort wondered if Dumbledore would know it was him, now that his fetchers had changed. Voldemort now had shorter hair, his face looked burned and blurred, his eyes had transformed into a sickly looking red color…all the small prices to pay for his wonderful four horcruxes, one of them still needing hiding.

"Good evening, Tom," Dumbledore greeted. "Won't you sit down?"

"Thank you," Voldemort thanked as he sat in front of the head. "I heard that you had become headmaster," he continued in a higher, colder voice. "A worthy choice."

"I am glad you approve," Dumbledore smiled. "May I offer you a drink?"

"That would be welcome. I have come a long way."

Dumbledore over to a large cabinet and took out some fine wine.

"So, Tom…to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dumbledore asked, handing him a goblet as the headmaster took his seat again.

"They do not call me 'Tom' anymore," he said. "These days, I am known as-,"

"I know what you are known as. But to me, I'm afraid, you will always be Tom Riddle. It is one of those one of the irritating things about old teachers. I am afraid that they never quite forget their charges' youthful beginnings."

"I am surprised you have remained here so long," Voldemort admitted. "I always wondered why a wizard such as yourself never wished to leave school."

"Well," said the smiling Dumbledore. "-to a wizard such as myself, there can be nothing more important than passing on ancient skills, helping hone young minds. If I remember correctly, you once saw the attraction of teaching too."

"I see it still," Voldemort answered. "I merely wondered why you-who are so often asked for advise by the Ministry, and who have twice, I think, been offered the post of Minis-

-ter-,"

"Three times at the last count, actually," Dumbledore corrected, holding up three fingers quickly and the putting his hand down. "But the Ministry never attracted me as a career. Again, something we have in common, I think."

Voldemort inclined his head and sipped his wine.

"I have returned," he started. "-later, perhaps, than Professor Dippet expected…but I have returned, nevertheless, to request again what he once told me I was too young to have. I have come to you to ask that you permit me to return to this castle, to teach. I think you must know that I have seen and done much since I left this place. I could show and tell your students things they can gain from no other wizard."

"Yes, I certainly do know that you have seen and done much since leaving us. Rumors of your doings have reached your old school, Tom. I should be sorry to have to believe half of them."

Voldemort showed no sign of worry as he continued

"Greatness inspires envy, envy engenders spite, spite spawns lies. You must know this, Dumbledore."  
"You call it 'greatness,' what have you been doing, do you?"

"Certainly. I have experimented; I have pushed the boundaries of magic further, perhaps, than they have ever been pushed-,"

"Of some kinds of magic," Dumbledore corrected again. "Of some. Of others, you remain…forgive me…woefully ignorant."

Voldemort did not look angry, but smiled.

"The old argument. But nothing I have seen in the world has supported your famous pronouncements that love is more powerful than my kind of magic, Dumbledore."

"Perhaps you have been looking in the wrong places."

"Well, then, what better place to start my fresh researches than here, at Hogwarts?" Voldemort said. "Will you let me return? Will you let me share my knowledge with your students? I place myself and my talents at your disposal. I am yours to command."

Dumbledore raised his white eyebrows.

"And what will become of those whom YOU command? What will happen to those who call themselves-or so rumor has it- the Death Eaters?"

Voldemort did not expect Dumbledore to know of this and so he said, after a moment's pause

"My friends will carry on without me, I am sure."

"I am glad to hear that you consider them friends. I was under the impression that they are more in the order of servants."

"You are mistaken," Voldemort assured.

"Then if I were to go to the Hog's Head tonight, I would not find a group of them- Nott, Rosier, Mulciber, Dolohov- awaiting your return? Devoted friends indeed, to travel this far with you on a snowy night, merely to wish you luck as you attempted to secure a teaching post."

Voldemort's nostrils slightly flared.

"You are omniscient as ever, Dumbledore," he congratulated with a hint of menace in his voice.

"Oh no, merely friendly with the local barmen. Now, Tom…,"

Dumbledore sat his empty glass on the desk and straightened up importantly.

"Let us speak openly. Why have you come here tonight, surrounded by henchmen, to request a job we both know you do not want?"

"A job I do not want? On the contrary, Dumbledore, I want it very much."

"Oh, you want to come back to Hogwarts, but you do not want to teach any more than you wanted when you were eighteen. What is it you're after, Tom? Why not try an open request for once?"

"If you do not want to give me a job-," Voldemort sneered.

"Of course I don't. And I don't think for a moment that you expected me to. Nevertheless, you came here, you asked, you must have had a purpose?"

Voldemort thought about how he always used to close his mind off to this man. He wondered if Dumbledore was looking into his mind once again.

"This is your final word?" Voldemort questioned, standing up with rage inside of him.

"It is," Dumbledore retorted, also standing.

"Then we have nothing more to say to each other."

"No, nothing," Dumbledore said. His face almost looked…saddened. "The time is long gone when I could frighten you with a burning wardrobe and force you to make repayment for your crimes. But I wish I could, Tom….I wish I could….,"

Without another word, Voldemort walked briskly out of the office.

..

Lord Voldemort walked very fast indeed, quickly up to the seventh floor corridor.

He passed to small Slytherins, both talking of a blood traitor they had been picking on, a first year named Arthur Weasly.

Voldemort came to the blank wall and, instead of thinking about his private study, thought about a place to hide something forever.

The doors opened and revealed a large room, full of all sorts of objects that Voldemort expected were placed there by the room to help hide the diadem.

He conjured up the diadem in his hand and placed it in the far back of the room. After making sure that it was hidden properly, Voldemort left the room to exit out of Hogwarts.

…..


	12. Chapter 12

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE

CHAPTER 12

Note: This chapter is used as a sequel for my story "A Sirius Switch Part 2" which was a continuation of "A Sirius Switch" by another user who granted me permission to finish the story. You do not HAVE to read those to understand Regulas Black's predicament in this chapter but it would help. Thank you and don't forget to please review!

PART EIGHT- I AM LORD VOLDEMORT

No more. No more. No more.

Those were the words racing through Voldemort's head at that moment in time. No more. No more. No more. No more. NO MORE!

He was tired of all of the waiting. He had tried to speak to the Wizarding World and to Dumbledore. Nothing was working!  
Voldemort took out his wand. To make another horcrux, he needed to murder again.

"DEATH EATERS!" he cried out as he placed his wand on the tattoo of the skull and snake tongue on Avery's arm.

The Dark Mark darkened and, at that moment, several hooded men wearing black cloaks and masks of different sorts, apparated into the small room.

"My servants!" he yelled to them. "I wish to murder now. The time of action has come and the time for watching me feebly trying to show the Wizarding world our nature has come to an END! WE MUST KILL THE MAN WHO HAS OUTSPOKEN ME MANY TIMES, TOO MANY TIMES! THAT MAN IS A MUGGLE SUPPORTER BY THE NAME OF BRANDON EVERSON! HE MUST BE KILLED, ALONG WITH EVERYONE IN HIS CAMPAIGN! KILL EVERYONE THERE BUT LEAVE EVERSON TO ME! WE ARE NO LONGER SPEAKERS! WE WILL AAAACCTTT!"  
The Death Eaters cheered as the all flew into the air, resembling black smoke flying across the sky.

Voldemort flew with them and laughed loudly as they descended on the large building that contained those who were in the campaign of Muggle born's rights.

The Death Eaters smashed through the windows and began to attack everyone in sight.

Many wizards and witches screamed and tried to flee, but some others drew their wands, amazed and terrified at the new type of magic they were witnessing.

The largest of the puffs of black smoke rose into the air as everyone starred and some shot spells at it…to no avail.

Everson starred at the smoke as part of it cleared and he saw the face of his opponent looking down on him.

"Voldemort," Everson muttered in fear.

"I WILL NOW SHOW YOU THAT WIZARDS WITH PRACTICE AND BLOOD LIKE MINE CAN BE THE MOST POWERFUL FORCE IN THE WORLD!" Voldemort bellowed.

He threw the most powerful killing curse he had ever cast at Everson and ended up hitting Everson and six other people.

The Death Eaters all took physical forms and began to duel with the mudbloods and blood traitors as Voldemort took his human form and smiled.

"Now that I have murdered….I can make Nagini more important than she'd ever have been to the world," he said to himself, referring to his pet snake who would soon be his first living horcrux. He would guard her personally.

He stepped to the window and laughed as he pointed his wand in the air and shot up the newly created curse of his.

The bright green dark mark appeared in the sky and Lord Voldemort roared with manic laughter.

..

"What the hell is going on here?" yelled the Minister of Magic as he entered the atrium to see all sorts of Ministry workers, especially the aurors and members of the Magical Law Enforcement quad, all running frantically as many superiors shouted orders everywhere.

"What the devil is going on here?" the Minister yelled at his deputy Minister, Cornelius Fudge.

"Sir," he said. "Sir, it's that speaker against muggle borns. You know, Lord Voldemort? He's gone absolutely mad! He's attacking several bases for the Muggle born rights act and he's murdered hundreds of people including Everson."  
"What? N…n…no. Everson was a good man!"

"I know sir! We're doing everything we can but Voldemort had more up his magic sleeve than we thought!"

…

Meanwhile, Voldemort was in the middle of the black smoke, rising above the scene of battle on the ground as all of the Death Eaters attacked and dueled other wizards and witches alike.

Voldemort laughed his high cold laugh.

"TODAY THERE WILL BE NO MUGGLE BORN RIGHTS MOVEMENT AT WORK! I WILL TAKE COMPLETE CONTROL OF THE WIZARDING WORLD! I AM THE ONE WHO WILL MAKE SURE WE ARE PURE ONCE MORE! I WILL BECOME THE GREATEST WIZARD OF ALL TIME! I…AM….LORD…VOLDEMORT!"  
He shot more curses in all directions, murdering all who came near including bystanders.

Voldemort cackled madly as more Ministry wizards arrived.

"Time to join the fight," Voldemort told himself.

He flew down to the fields and began to curse down anyone in his path.

Suddenly, he saw two people lying on the ground.

He couldn't believe who they were.

No.

It couldn't be.

Aidan from his first year was lying on the ground, holding….

"Suzan," Voldemort muttered.

He came closer to them and they looked fearful.

"You two don't recognize me, do you?" he questioned.

They shook their heads.

Suzan was the first to retort.

"I only know that you're the bastard who's trying to murder all of the innocent muggle borns and-,"  
She gasped the loudest gasp Voldemort had ever heard as Suzan starred at his wand.

She looked back up at him and began to cry.

"No," she said as rain drops began to fall down on them. "No, it can't be!"  
"What? What is it?" Aidan asked.

"It's Tom!" Suzan wailed.

Aidan starred at Voldemort.

"Ah, I see you gave up Slytherin then so that you could be with her! A bit of an age difference though, eh?" Voldemort jeered.

Aidan was shaking.

"Please Tom," he pleaded. "Please. Let Suzan-,"

"AAAHHHH!" Voldemort screamed as he shot a killing curse at both of them and stepped away from their cold, dead bodies.

Suzan's eyes were still open with shock…and Voldemort didn't even bother to close them.

"I have no real feelings for you!" he shouted again.

The rain began to pour now, thunder everywhere as the battle grey stronger and more violent.

Voldemort began to duel with every man or woman who came to stop him. He blew everyone aside as easy as he had done Everson and continued to laugh high and cold as he did so.

"Please!" they would shout with fear.

He would kill them.

He blasted some of them apart so that their blood and organs flew in all directions, even to those who did not oppose him.

Voldemort watched as his death eaters fought in the rain, killing everyone in sight. Lord Voldemort had created a true blood bath. He smiled as the red liquid dripped on the soaked, green grass.

He kept walking, kicking the bodies of children aside as he did so.

Once again, using the magical smoke, he rose high into the air and bellowed so loudly it was impossible not to hear him.

"I AM LORD VOLDEMORT! I NOW DECLARE WAR ON THE WIZARDING WOLRD OF BRITAIN! I WILL DESTROY EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU MUDBLOODS AND BLOOD TRAITORS ALIKE! SALAZAR SLYTHERIN SHALL BE REVENGED!"  
He allowed his death eaters to continue the massacre as he disaperated into the rain.

…..

Years and years it went on for. Not the battle, but the war. Voldemort grew stronger and more dangerous. There was a time period when the war was escalating that it was called 'The Darkness Rising'. And it did rise. Many died. Muggles and Wizards and witches. Men, women, and even small innocent children. There was no question that one just couldn't trust a stranger. It was even difficult to count on friends.

…

In the year of 1980, Lord Voldemort discovered that one if his top Death Eaters seemed fairly distant. Regulas Black, who looked as if he was a small eleven year old boy but was actually much older. The child had been forced by a now deceased vampire named Sudi to drink vampire blood. Sudi had snapped the child's neck and Regulas had awoken, everything suddenly stranger. His loving older brother, Sirius had felt wretched in his heart as he heard his little brother scream in horror.

That event had changed Regulas dramatically. Even though he did not age physically, he developed his mind and body power.

He was an excellent dueler and had a form of a large white bat with a pale human face that he could assume. It had come in very handy.

However, for Rudious, another Death Eater, Regulas's powers had been no good thing.

At the age of sixteen, Regulas had joined the Death Eaters and had blasted his old school nemesis, Rudious, with his wand and caused him to fall dead. But, Regulas wanted more punishment for Rudious. He had sneaked his own blood into Rudious's system before killing him, causing him to become a vampire as well. Now Lord Voldemort had two cunning vampires, both having to wear enchanted rings to protect them from the sun light.

Rudious soon came to enjoy being a vampire, but Regulas always seemed rather ashamed of himself.

Voldemort did not truly know what Regulas was thinking but he could tell something was wrong with him. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

"Bellatrix!" he called from the room where he and his snake stayed in.

The black double doors were thrown open and Bellatrix Lastrange, wife of one of Voldemort's school mates, came in. Her dark black hair was frazzled up everywhere as usual, her eyes wide with excitement, her long dark dress slithering on the floor.

"Yes my lord?" she asked hopeful for another assignment.

Voldemort smiled.

"My enthusiastic servant, I am afraid that your baby cousin is not going to be easy to convince of something."

"What is that my Lord?" she inquired.

"There is an order of the phoenix member whom I believe you and him are related too?"

Her gaze narrowed.

"Is it my blood traitor sister or…or my cousin, Sirius?"

"Sirius Black," Voldemort said. "Yes, he is the one who is causing a good deal of trouble. I want you to murder him with Regulas. Convince the vampire that it is better for Sirius to be murdered by you two instead of myself."  
She began to giggle.

"I will sir," she promised. "And as for his blood betraying girlfriend, she will be dealt with in my own special style."

"Very well," Voldemort alleged. "If Regulas doesn't wish to go….persuade him a different way."

Bellatrix smiled.

"Of course, my lord."

…

I can't do this, I just can't, Regulas Black thought to himself as he sat on top of the "Big Ben" clock tower in London. He glanced down at his ring that protected him from the sun's radiation.

For a moment, he thought about slipping it off but decided against it.

Suddenly, the sky turned dark and cloudy and the wind rushed faster and faster, gathering speed.

Regulas looked up and saw the smoky outline of Bellatrix as she flew over head.

A wet tear ran down his cheek and he quickly wiped it away.

He stood and concentrated hard.

His skin turned as pale as the sky so that he would blend in and his eyes gleamed red as blood. His arms molded until they where wings connected to his body, with claw like hands at the end of each one.

His feet turned into bat like claws and he soared up into the air, following his older cousin.

He flew high over London, nobody able to see him because of the white clouds caking the sky.

Bellatrix laughed as the began to land, right near the small house owned by Sirius Black and his soon to be wife, Mary.

Bellatrix materialized into a human figure and laughed as she saw Sirius and Mary run out of the house, Mary's dark brown hair bouncing behind her.

"You!" Sirius yelled heatedly.

"Nice place you got here," Bellatrix admitted. "Away from the muggles, up in the nice mountain areas, eh?"

Sirius shot a quick spell at her, but it was blocked.

"Oh, save the dueling for when the other death eater gets here," she told.

"Who's coming?" questioned Mary.

Regulas no longer blended into his surroundings as he landed on the grass and changed back into a small boy.

"Re…Reggie?" Sirius gasped. "No."

Tears poured down Regulas's cheeks as he starred at the brother he disagreed with…but loved to death.

Bella raised her wand but Regulas tried to stop her.

"No!" he shouted at her. "Not Sirius, please!"

She turned her wand on Regulas.

"Do you want to end up like HE'S going to? Hm? Do you wanna di- AAAHHGGHH!"  
She screamed as she was blasted by blue light and was tossed through the air and onto the ground.

Regulas turned, expecting to see Sirius's wand up, but instead saw that it was Mary who had cursed Bella.

"Take that you psychotic, overrated, curse happy, rape obsessed, BITCH!" Mary screeched at her.

Bellatrix stood angrily and straightened her robes.

"Well, then…TAKE THIS!" Mary screamed, throwing more curses at Bella who deflected them and began to duel with Mary.

Regulas looked back at Sirius who had his wand raised.

"Why Reggie? WHY? We were the best brothers anyone ever saw at Hogwarts even if you were in Slytherin and I was in Gryffindor!"

Regulas stood there, tears coming down once again.

"You protected me," Regulas said. "But, remember when we pretended to hate each other?"

"Yeah…," Sirius answered.

"Well then, let's start dueling and I'll let you get away," Regulas told. "One, two, three- GO!"  
They began to duel falsely fiercely as Bella laughed and jeered at the frustrated Mary.

"I thought you were bad back at Hogwarts," yelled Mary.

She shot an 'Avada Kadavra' curse at Bellatrix, who dodged it and shouted

"You're not good enough at this to defeat me!"

All four of them continued to fight and to duel and to jeer at each other.

Regulas nodded for Sirius to throw the water at him.

Sirius tossed the water on Regulas who pretended to scream in agony.

"VERVAIN!" he screeched, making Bella believe that he had been hit with the liquid that burned vampires worse than garlic.

Mary took advantage of Bellatrix's surprise and distraction. She through a powerful knockback jinx at her and sent her flying into the air again and onto the ground.

"Quickly!" Sirius shouted as Bella rose.

He grabbed a hold of Mary's hand and looked back at his little brother who nodded and smiled.

CRACK

Sirius and Mary disaperated into thin air and Bellatrix howled with pure rage.

"Looks like your damn burns have already healed," she shouted at Regulas. "Get up REGGIE!"  
He did so and watched in horror as Bellatrix flew into the air, resembling black smoke and went right through the house.

As she did, the house burst into flames.

She went higher into the air and disaperated all together.

Regulas stood and starred at the burning home.

His tears began to fall again as he realized what type of organization he was part of. If they did this to all people who were as good as Sirius, then why was Regulas a part of this?

….

There was a meeting later that evening that all of the Death Eaters where required to attend. The dark room had one fire place behind Lord Voldemort and one brown table large enough to seat all of them with the Dark Lord at the head.

After everyone was seated, Voldemort began to speak.

"There is something I need to test," he informed them. "And to do this, I require a house elf."

They all looked surprised.

"What exactly are we testing my Lord?" Avery asked.

"I am afraid that none of you are allowed to know that," Voldemort answered. "All I need is a house elf."

Regulas looked up.

"Um…my house elf, Kreacher, would be probably honored to assist in any way he can," Regulas told.

"Excellent," Voldemort said. "Now, to business. The Ministry is growing weaker; we have more on our side."

"Indeed my lor-," Rudious began.

"Silence! Do NOT interrupt the Dark Lord when he speaks!" Voldemort yelled.

Rudious stopped his speaking and went silent.

"Now," Voldemort began again. "My top target would be the Minister of Magic."  
"And, the second one?" the young man, Barty Crouch junior asked, knowing there was always a second on Voldemort's list.

Voldemort smiled.

"Albus Dumbledore."

..

Kreacher agreed immediately to helping Voldemort, not that he had much of a choice.

They sat together in the small boat as it glided across the lake.

Kreacher looked at his bleeding hand, cut from when Voldemort asked him to give the cave wall a blood offering. After Kreacher had done so, the wall had opened and they found themselves in a large darker area with a tiny island in the middle of the black lake. It looked like it was made of large glistening crystals.

Kreacher looked over the boat to see that there were several dead, decaying bodies in the water. He shuddered and listened as Lord Voldemort spoke.

"You must drink from the potion that is up here," Voldemort told him.

"Of course sir," Kreacher replied.

He would have bowed, if not for the fact that they were sitting in a small boat.

They came to the small island in the middle and Voldemort pulled Kreacher roughly out of the boat.

The house elf saw the basin that was filled to the brim with a greenish colored potion.

"Take this," Voldemort instructed, handing Kreacher a cup that looked like a broken shell from a crab. "-and drink with it."

Kreacher nodded. He licked his lips with slight nervousness and winced as the Dark Lord shouted

"NOW!"

Then, he dipped the cup into the basin and took his first sip.

….

Regulas sat in the kitchen of 'Number twelve, Grimmauld Place', wondering where his house elf had been for the past day.

Had Voldemort done something to him?

And then….

CRACK!  
Regulas jumped with fear and drew his wand, his vampire fangs barred until he saw who had just apparated into the kitchen.

"Kreacher!"

Indeed, the house elf fell to the ground, muttering to himself, and not even noticing Regulas shaking him until Regulas shouted

"Kreacher!"  
The elf looked back up at his master with his wide, terrified eyes, and began to sob.

"What happened Kreacher? Tell me," Regulas insisted.

The house elf took several deep breaths before he began.

..

The Potion had caused Kreacher to remember the darkest memories in his past. After the basin had been completely emptied, the Dark Lord had placed a golden locket inside and then had put more of the Potion inside. He had then left Kreacher there, and sailed away, laughing.

Kreacher had needed water and so had crawled to the lake to drink from it. As he drank, he had to back away as dead bodies began to crawl out, not undead but being moved as if by invisible strings.

Kreacher had screamed as they came to him, but managed to disapparate out of the cave.

Now he lay in the kitchen, recounting the events to his enraged master.

Regulas looked up.

"I'm gonna make him pay Kreacher. I'm gonna make him PAY."

…..

Regulas held the copy of the locket to his chest. Kreacher had explained what it had looked like and so, Regulas had recreated it with magic.

He asked his loyal elf to lead him to the cave and soon, he understood what he must do.

He had already left a letter to the dark lord, explaining that he was leaving, never to return to being a death eater.

Regulas massaged his forearm, starring at the darkened black dark mark.

Regulas walked to the cave entrance and stopped Kreacher when he made to cut his left hand.

"No," he told the elf. "Let me do it."

Kreacher starred at his master, then handed him the small knife.

Regulas cut his own left hand and wiped it painfully on the wall which crumpled to pieces and allowed them to enter into the purging darkness.

..

Kreacher had been correct. There were bodies in the lake, and Regulas knew that soon they would stir.

He walked up to the basin and looked at Kreacher.

"You must make me keep drinking," he told.

"No, no, master. It is too painful. You have no idea," Kreacher urged.

"I will soon, won't I?" Regulas said, chuckling slightly.

He picked up the small cup and then handed Kreacher the fake locket.

"Switch the locket when I've gotten rid of the entire Potion, got it?"  
Kreacher nodded.

Regulas looked at the basin's locket and the false one, exactly alike.

"A real serious switch, eh?" Regulas laughed under his breath.

He filled the cup and then thought about Sirius, James, Lily, and Remus. Everyone he was supposed to hate. His blood traitor brother and his blood betraying friend, the mudblood girlfriend of the gang, and the werewolf scum whom Regulas was mostly supposed to hate because of him being a vampire. However, he felt nothing but love for all of them.

He licked his lips, frightened about what was about to happen, all of the things he was about to let go of. Slowly, he put the cup to his lips and drank the potion.

"Master Regulas?" Kreacher asked as his master's eyes grew wide and he began to shake.

Kreacher looked at his favorite master as Regulas closed his eyes and shook his head violently as if he had tasted something vile.

"Master?" Kreacher asked again.

Regulas sunk to the ground as he finished the cup.

Kreacher sighed with sadness and made to refill the cup.

Inside Regulas's thoughts, he saw himself back at his home; his brother had just walked in the room. Sirius wasn't wearing a shirt, and Regulas could see burn marks and cuts all over him from where their mother had punished him.

The scene swirled and changed to Hogwarts where Sudi had just turned Regulas. The vampire child ran to his older brother in the party at the Great Hall, screeching for help.

Realizing what had just happened, Sirius made to kill Sudi but was held back by their father. The small visiting pack of werewolves circled around Regulas protectively as he vomited the human food and fluid within him. The older vampires began to tear at Sudi, ripping flesh from bone, and one older vampire helped quickly carry Regulas to the hospital wing as if he were an infant.

..

"NO!" Regulas screamed. "NO SIRIUS, NO! I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I DON'T WANT TO BE A DEATH EATER ANYMORE! NO! NO! NO!"  
Kreacher sobbed as he poured the remaining liquid into his master's mouth and, finally, they reached the bottom and Regulas stopped screaming for his older brother.

The house elf took the horcrux in his hand, not knowing what it truly was, and placed the false locket in the empty basin which refilled as he took his hand away.

"We have done it, master!" Kreacher cried happily. "We have the dark lord's locket!"

Suddenly, he remembered how only house elves could apparate in enchanted places like this and how that had been how he'd escaped the creatures at the bottom of the lake.

His eyes grew wide.

"Sir!" he yelled. "Not the LAKE!"

He turned quickly around to see Regulas drinking from the water and, as he put his hand in for another drink….

A bone of a hand broke the surface and grabbed a hold of Regulas's throat.

"NO!" Kreacher shouted.

He shot a ball of blue light at the monster and sent it flying back to where it had come.

More of them came and Kreacher shot more elf magic at them, sending them high into the air.

Regulas suddenly gained control of his senses and took out his wand.

"Stupify!" he yelled, firing spell after spell, he and his small servant trying to escape certain death.

The island was taken as the surrounding monsters were on every side, blocking any getaway.

Regulas realized that Kreacher was the one who would be able to hide the locket easier, as the dark lord wouldn't be looking for him, believing that he was dead.

He looked at Kreacher as the monsters came and said

"Go. Get the locket out of here. Hide it. I'm…sorry Kreacher."

"Master, NO!" Kreacher yelled.

Regulas ran to the end of the island and leapt off into the lake, where the lake's dwellers followed, eagerly.

Tears came down Kreacher's cheeks.

He shot two more spells at the nearest monsters and disaperated, the locket in his hand.

…

Regulas sunk lower and lower, being dragged down to the crushing darkness of the lagoon.

The pain of suffocation engulfed him but he knew that, as a vampire, he wouldn't die like this and his body would shut down in twenty years. Twenty years of feeling like this. He knew it was not worth it.

He let go of his wand and watched it float away. Regulas then reached in his pocket and pulled out a long, wooden stake.

As the dead pulled on Regulas, trying to murder him themselves, he raised the stake and thought about his brother…his beloved brother.

Goodbye, he thought. May it one day be known how I died.

He pulled the stake towards him and gasped as it pierced his heart.

He felt all his insides seize up, as his hands went to his side and he floated, lifeless as the now immobilized lagoon dwellers.


	13. Chapter 13

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. THE STORY

CHAPTER 13

"He must have gone into hiding," Bellatrix said to the Dark Lord with the other death eaters.

They were all at another meeting in that same long dark room with the fireplace right behind Voldemort who was seated at the head of the table.

Voldemort thought. He realized how badly the situation was. A death eater deserting the group and Lord Voldemort not being able to track him down and give him what he deserves. This was unheard of.

"Silence!" he yelled over the shouting of his servants.

Everyone quieted down as Voldemort continued

"Now, I am putting a very large bounty on the head of young Mister Black. He is now number three on the list. I know he has been useful to us, but by his letter I can tell that he has no true place in this world…in MY WORLD!"

He looked angrier as he sat back in his chair.

"My lord," Yaxley began in his Scottish accent. "The D.A that we bribed from the Ministry and Avery are now in Azkaban. I'm afraid that we're not going to be able to break them out-,"

"The Ministry bribe taker is worth nothing to us now. He was constructive because he managed to keep the aurors at bay. Avery however, is a very accomplished death eater. I think that it would be a good idea to come up with a plan to help him escape from Azkaban."

They all nodded.

"And even if we have the chance, just leave the D.A there?" Crabbe, a new death eater, inquired to his master.

"Indeed," Voldemort replied. "Now, I wish for you all to leave the room. Everyone except Snape."

Confused at the sudden end to the meeting, the death eaters all rose and walked out the door.

Only Severus Snape remained. Snape was tall, had a fairly elongated nose, greasy tar black hair which hung low over his face. His face always had a frown on it and he was always dressed in lengthy black robes that matched his hair.

"Yes, my Lord?" he asked.

"Severus," Voldemort began. "You and I are actually very alike. Like me, you wish for a teaching position at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry?"

"The thought had come across my mind before, sir, but my loyalties lie with you…and you alone," Snape assured.

"I am glad to hear it," Voldemort said. "But I would like for you to try and secure a position at the school. You have a much higher chance than I did. I need a spy in Hogwarts to watch Dumbledore."

"People have had suspicions that I am a death eater," Snape pointed out.

"But never proven," Voldemort added, his lips curling into a smile.

…..

Dear Professor. A Dumbledore,

As I was always a devoted student to the great Hogwarts, I do hope that you will allow me to try for a teaching position. I can assure you that the rumors of my servitude to 'He who must not be named' are completely untrue. I wish to teach Defense against the Dark Arts, which I have heard is once again an open position. If you would like to have an interview with me then please inform me by return of another letter.

Yours truly,

Severus Snape

…

Dear Severus,

I would be pleased to give you an interview for the job. If you would like to arrive at the Hogsmead bar, the Hog's head, on perhaps August the twelfth, then you would find me there. I hope to see you soon.

Yours sincerely,

Albus P. W. B. Dumbledore

…..

Severus Snape arrived at Hogsmead on the exact date Dumbledore had suggested.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun not very near setting.

And so, as it was, Snape proceeded to walk to the small bar, The Hog's Head, and opened the thin wooden door.

He wrinkled his nose ever so slightly as he looked inside the cantina. There was a small bar area to one side with very sullied glasses that looked as though they needed a good clean. There were many tables to another that all looked as if they may break if a small child were to sit on them.

He walked through the door frame and went over to the old bartender, who's grey beard reached down to the bottom of his neck.

"I'm looking for Albus Dumbledore," Snape informed. "Would you happen to know-,"

"Me brother's up those stairs," the bartender said, pointing to the stairway. "First door on yer' left."

Snape raised an eyebrow, wondering how on Earth Albus Dumbledore was related to a bartender who couldn't even clean drinking glasses.

He walked up the stairs and knocked on the first door to his left.

"Enter!" called an elderly voice from behind the door.

Snape turned the knob and entered.

Professor Dumbledore was wearing long purple robes with a silver Wizard's hat and a matching colored belt with an abnormally large buckle.

"Ah, Severus," Dumbledore said, cheerfully. "Come and sit down."

He did so.

"Now, would you like some mead?" asked Dumbledore, taking out a large bottle and holding a glass to Severus.

Snape eyed it, apprehensively.

"Is that from your brother, then?" he asked as politely as he could.

"Oh, no," Dumbledore replied, beginning to laugh very hard. "I got…I got these from Rosmerta's about an hour ago. Have one."

Snape shrugged his shoulders in a very 'why not?' fashion and took a now filled glass of mead.

Dumbledore took a sip from his own glass and smiled with his eyes closed gracefully as if the drink took him to a heavenly place.

"I've got to hand it to her, she makes delectable mead," he admitted, setting his class down on the tiny table in front of them. "So, you want the Dark Arts job?"  
"Pupils must be taught on how to defend themselves in dark times like these," Snape said.

"Oh, please don't say that. It makes me feel like this war will go on ANOTHER twenty years. It is my hope that we will not have to witness more of these horrors."

"I promise not to, sir," Snape told.

"Very good," Dumbledore said. "And now, let us begin. You wish to fill the post of Defense against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"Indeed," answered Snape.

Dumbledore looked down at Snape's résumé.

"You seem to have plenty of experience," Dumbledore commented. "However, you are also no stranger in the art of Potion making. That is one of the three posts that are open."  
"I am aware of that, sir," Snape said. "My wish still is to teach Defensive magic."

"What was YOUR life like back at Hogwarts, Severus?" Dumbledore asked, calmly.

Snape thought back.

"I…I was always enemies with James Potter and his little gang, I will admit, but James Potter's current…wife,"(Snape said the word 'wife' with an essence of disgust), "-has been a dear friend of mine since a couple of years before we even started school."

"And your grades?" Dumbledore continued. "If I remember correctly, you were an expert in Defense against the Dark Arts AND in Potion making. Do you recall that?"  
"Yes, sir," Snape replied.

Dumbledore smiled and said

"I do not believe that you are a death eater, Severus," he alleged. "I do however think that some of the dark arts might be slightly over powering for you and difficult to resist. This is why, I think, that I should instead give you the post of Potions master."  
Snape tried to hide his disappointment as he spoke again and said

"I would be glad to fill in for that post, Professor," Snape said.

"Good, good," Dumbledore muttered. "Now, this is only if you do better than the others who want the job. And if you're lucky, I might not even find a good Defense teacher and instead choose you. Stay in town a couple days, Severus. I shall inform you when I have made a decision."

…

Snape walked up the stairs past the room where he and Dumbledore had had their meeting the day before. He was on his way to the bedroom he was staying in, but stopped when he heard something.

There was a lady whimpering inside the room where she was probably having an interview with the headmaster.

Snape leaned on the door and listened as the woman spoke.

"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT! FOR EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER, FOR NIETHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SERVIES!"

She continued to speak about a boy, born as the seventh month dies.

Snape's eyes widened with shock.

He had just heard a prophesy that foretold the death of his master at a child's hand.

"What the 'ell do you think yer' doing up 'ere, Snape?" the bartender shouted, coming up from behind Snape and grabbing him.

Snape heard Dumbledore call something and the bartender swung the door open.

"Albus, I just caught this bleedin' idiot listening in on your interview," he said, gruffly.

A small woman with long over shawls, beaded necklaces of all kinds draped around her, and abnormally large spectacles that magnified her eye balls gasped and looked disgusted.

Dumbledore bowed his head and asked

"Is this true, Severus?"

Snape stood there and then said

"I have to go."

He pushed the bartender away and ran down the stairs.

….

"My Lord," Snape said. "If the seer was correct, then we must find this child and have him killed."

Voldemort turned and smiled.

"Wormtail, you are a good friend of the Potters. Perhaps, you could be their secret keeper when they go into hiding. You could be the one who helps keep their house invisible to me. That way, I'll be able to find them with your help."

"But, my lord-," Snape began, looking terrified that Lily might be in danger because of him. "-how…how do you know it's the Potters?"

Voldemort's lip curled.

"It is either him or the brat child of Frank and Alice Longbottom. They are talented aurors but not as talented as the Potters. Send word to all of the death eaters. I want the Potters found. The whole family must be murdered!" 

…..


	14. Chapter 14

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. THE STORY

CHAPTER 14

A whole year past and still, Voldemort hadn't found the Potters. He searched and searched but knew that Dumbledore had protected them well. He was soon on the verge of giving up before some good news came to him.

Wormtail came running into the meeting room where Voldemort was sitting at the head of the table, Nagini slithering on his shoulders.

"What is it, Pettigrew?" Voldemort questioned, sounding irritated. "What news could you POSSIBLY have?"

Wormtail smiled slightly and then went back to a serious expression as Voldemort glared at him.

"My lord," Wormtail began. "Dumbledore convinced the Potters to change me to their secret keeper. I know where they are."  
Voldemort smiled a very large, uncharacteristic grin and stood up, not seeming to notice that Nagini had fallen onto the table.

"Yes!" Voldemort shouted. "Yes, it turns out even the great old man Albus Dumbledore can be tricked. Excellent work, Wormtail! Now, tell me where they are."

….

The cool night air whipped around Voldemort as he descended onto the ground streets of Godrick's hollow. Children everywhere ran around in costumes, as it was Halloween. Voldemort felt disgusted as he looked at the little brats of muggles running around the neighborhood like fools, mocking the great world of magic with their costumes.

A small little child in a pumpkin suit came tearing up to Voldemort, who had his hood up, covering his face.

"Nice costume, sir," the little brat said.

Voldemort looked up slightly, showing the boy his face underneath with slits for nostrils with no nose, two red eyes, and pale moldy skin.

The boy's eyes lit up with fear as he turned and began to run off in the other direction.

With a smile on his face, Voldemort's hand closed around his wand beneath his dark cloak. The boy would never reach his mother.

But no, there were many witnesses and he had something important to do tonight.

He began to walk away to a small, quite, and empty collection of houses.

His eyes looked around until they came to the largest house which was at the end of the road.

As Wormtail, the secret keeper, had given Lord Voldemort the information he needed, he would now be perfectly capable of entering let alone seeing it.

He walked forward, almost able to taste the power he would soon have, the prophesized murderer to him would be gone and Lord Voldemort would have control over the world. With his left hand, Voldemort drew his white, bony wand. He opened the gate and passed through the yard.

Through the window, he could see shadows. A father using his wand to make smoke appear and laughing as baby Harry tried to grab it with his hands. A woman came in and made motions which might have meant that she was amused.

She picked up the baby boy and carried him out of the room, soon followed by her husband…who placed his wand on the nearby table.

The fool, Voldemort laughed in his mind.

The Dark Lord kept walking across the yard and stopped at the front door.

He pointed his wand at the door knob and muttered the spell.

It was perhaps, too powerful, as it blasted the door open wide so that it slammed into the wall, not leaving its hinge.

Voldemort smiled as Lily Evens screamed.

"Lily, it's him! TAKE HARRY AND RUN!" James Potter shouted at his wife.

She ran with Harry in her arms up the stairs.

Her husband, the foolish ass he was, ran up to Voldemort and put up his fist.

With a lazy flick of his wand, Voldemort blasted James aside in the green light.

"NO!" screamed Lily as she ran, sobbing, to a bedroom.

Voldemort took one more look at the dead body of James Potter and proceeded up the staircase.

The bedroom door had a light on inside and the Dark Lord could hear the woman bawling uncontrollably.

…

Meanwhile, elsewhere, a large ban of Death Eaters descended from the dark mark. They came over the large field of Wizards and Witches having a large get together.

Green flashes of light shot in all directions, hitting all guests as they ran, trying hopelessly to escape.

The Death Eaters laughed as Bellatrix Lestrange lifted ten children in the air with her wand and began to curse them. She giggled as she listened to their petty screams.

…

Voldemort pointed his wand at the door and blew it off of the doorframe and onto the floor.

Lily screeched and dropped her son into his crib.

She tried to shield him with her arms and screamed

"Not Harry! No, not Harry! PLEASE!"

"Step aside silly girl!" Voldemort yelled.

"Not Harry! No, I beg you!"

She continued to scream and Voldemort shouted that she could live if she let him pass. However, she stood her ground, looking extremely horrified. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Voldemort laughed.

He raised his wand and cast the spell he was so familiar with.

"AVADA KADAVRA!" he cursed.

A green bolt of lightning shot at Lily and sent her, screaming, onto the floor. She lay there; her eyes wide open with terror, dead.

Lord Voldemort walked to the crib and pointed his wand at the baby who stood and saw the face beneath the hood.

Maybe the child had thought it was his father making pretty light and that his mother would rise again, laughing on this 'cheerful' Halloween.

However, she did not rise. The face under the large hood was not that of Harry Potter's father. It was the moldy, misshapen, red eyed, look of the Dark Lord Voldemort.

Slowly, Harry's eyes squinted and his mouth moved into the biggest saddest gaze a one year old could make. He began to wail and cry as hard as his mother.

Voldemort winced as he raised his wand, preparing to kill a one year old boy for the first time.

He could not stand the sound of an infant's crying. He had heard that noise many times back at the orphanage and he could not listen to it. It brought back so many memories.

He looked up and saw, in his mind, a little Tom Marvolo Riddle sitting on a bed, hugging his knees.

The scene flashed to several older teenage boys beating upon a ten year old Riddle, who was crying, wailing. The scene flashed again to an older girl who had always helped Tom through these times; the only muggle he had ever felt affection for. Once again, the scene changed to him screaming with anger, hearing the news of how she had been shot and killed in the city.

He looked down and saw baby Harry Potter crying and screeching.

"YOU DAMNED MUGGLES!" Voldemort shrieked to the world.

He raised the wand higher.

"AVADA-," he started. "-KADAVRA!"  
A large green jet of light shot out of his wand and shot forward to Harry…and hit an invisible boundary.

It turned completely, leaving a lightning shaped scar on the baby's forehead, and the green light shot at Lord Voldemort.

It blasted into his chest and he looked down at his body. At the speed of light, his human body dissolved into nothingness and he remembered Slughorn's words.

"Who would choose such and existence?"

All he knew was pain now; he was neither dead nor living. Because of his many horcruxes, he wouldn't be able to die…but he wouldn't be able to live.

Nothing but a mere phantom, he began to move away from the house, which began burning and collapsing around him.

He soared out of the window and screamed as loud as he could, sounding like nothing but a whisper to any normal person.

He knew that he was finished, he had lost. He had to get away and so he did. He moved away from the crumpling household and wailed inaudibly, doomed to an insignificant existence, which Hell itself would have been more comfortable and merciful than.

He could do not magic, communicate with no other Death Eater, and he most certainly couldn't find a way to save himself. He would roam like this forever; God's own special way of condemning a man more sinister than the devil, more powerful than Hitler. Lord Voldemort, the great and power driven Dark Lord…was finished.


	15. Chapter 15

TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE. THE STORY

CHAPTER 15

EPILOGUE

Albus Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall watched as Rubeus Hagrid landed on the ground with his large, enchanted, motorbike.

He carried with him…the small child, Harry Potter, the only survivor of the attack on his house. The boy who lived.

Dumbledore, smiling about how Voldemort had vanished, but also feeling saddened at the death of Lily and James Potter; something which brought Hagrid and even McGonagall to tears.

They walked over to Number four, privet drive, the house of a muggle family whom Harry was related to on his mother's side.

Dumbledore put the bundle in which the boy slept on the doorstep. He then placed an explanatory note about the past events for the family called 'The Dursleys' to read.

He turned to leave, but looked back. This boy would be so famous that everyone in their world would know his name and he would grow up away from all of that…until he was ready.

And so, I tell you these events so that you may understand our hero's worst enemy a little better. Lord Voldemort does have a past. It may be a dark one, but it is an important one. Perhaps now you will see whom Harry Potter is dealing with. I understand completely as I have witnessed these events since they began. I am not a true part of the Wizarding World, but I am no muggle. You could call me an angel but I wouldn't say that is my true title. I serve the being who is worshipped by humans who need something to believe in. I serve the one who has had many names. The name he now has of course is, God. I am no man of God but I serve him and was there back all those years ago when Tom Riddle was born into this world. I knew what he would turn into and I couldn't do anything. I do wish that I could have, but alas, there are some things we cannot control, no matter how powerful we are. This is the moral of my story, something Lord Voldemort never truly grasped. Albus Dumbledore knew this and one day, he will teach that to young Harry, not only the boy who lived, but the chosen one. Finally, I leave you with the last line in this story. This is the last thing that was uttered by any person in it. That man was also there at the beginning for Tom and he was there when things seemed over.

Albus Dumbledore turned to the bundle and whispered

"Good luck….Harry Potter."

TO BE CONTINUED IN J.K ROWLING'S MASTER PIECE "THE HARRY POTTER SERIES".


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